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Authors: Johanna Lindsey

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Historical

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BOOK: Tender Rebel
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“What of Brutus?” Nettie asked, then glanced with wide eyes at Roslynn’s full wardrobe. “And all yer clothes? There’s nae time tae pack—”

“They must be left here until after I’m wed, Nettie. We can both take a few things now, and I’m sure Regina has a competent seamstress who can supply whatever else we need to see us to the wedding. All I need to do is leave a note for Frances; then we can be off. Where is she, by the way?”

Nettie grunted. “After she fair wore the carpet down tae a frazzle all morning long, one of the maids mentioned she had a brother who knew a certain fellow, who knew how tae go about hiring the kind of men who could find ye quicker than the authorities—”

“Authorities!” Roslynn gasped, horrified that the scandal she had worried about all day was going to break around her head anyway. “Hell’s teeth! She didna report me missing, did she?”

Nettie quickly shook her head. “She was near tae doing it, though, that worried she was, but knew once she did, it’d never be kept secret. And if ye’d no’ be completely ruined, the talk would still hurt yer efforts tae get a decent husband. That’s why she jumped on the maid’s suggestion, and even insisted on going herself tae arrange the hiring.”

Roslynn frowned. “Still, with so many servants knowing—”

“Och now, ye’re no’ tae worry as tae that, lass. They’re good people Lady Frances has, but tae be safe, I had a wee talk wi’ each of them. They’re no’
likely tae breathe a word outside this house about yer absence.”

Roslynn chuckled. “You’ll have to tell me sometime what threats you used, but right now we’ve no more time. Go and pack up several changes of clothes, and I’ll do the same, then meet me downstairs. We should leave at exactly the same moment. And, Nettie, head north until you’re certain you’re not followed; then you can turn toward Hampshire. I’ll go south and then backtrack too. But if I don’t arrive close behind you, you’re not to worry. I’ll be going far out of my way first, just to be safe. I don’t intend to fall into Geordie’s hands again no matter what. He won’t be so careless the next time.”

Chapter Sixteen

I
t seemed like an eternity before the front door finally opened to Roslynn’s repeated pounding, and pounding she was doing before she finished. She was in such a state of nerves, in fact, expecting to be seized at any moment, that even her own shadow gave her a start when she glanced behind her to make sure the old carriage was still waiting, the driver still keeping an eye on her. Not that he would be much help if Geordie and his hirelings found her.

It was the risk that had her in a such a state. She shouldn’t be stopping here. She had promised Nettie she would make all haste out of London, yet she had come directly here instead, not allowing herself time to lose anyone who might have followed her. That was what had her heart hammering to the tune of her fist against the door. Geordie could be sneaking up on her at this very moment, getting closer and closer, while she stood here waiting for the bloody door to open.

When it did open, she shoved her way inside so forcefully, she nearly knocked the butler down. She closed the door herself, leaning back against it, then looked aghast at the fellow, who was looking even more aghast at her.

He collected himself first, straightening his coat with a sharp tug, gathering his dignity about him like a cloak. “Really, miss-”

She jumped in to forestall him, unthinkingly giving him an even worse impression of her. “Och, mon,
dinna scold me. I’m sorry to be barging in, but this is an emergency. I must speak wi’ Sir Anthony.”

“Out of the question,” he stated with haughty disdain. “Sir Anthony is not receiving tonight.”

“He isna here, then?”

“He is unavailable to callers,” the butler stated more bluntly. “I do have my orders, miss. Now if you would be so good—”

“No!” she gasped as he reached for the door handle to show her out. “Did you no’ hear me, mon? I
mun
see him!”

Without a pause, he opened the door, forcing her to move away from it. “There are to be no exceptions.” But when he reached for her arm to literally shove her outside, Roslynn clobbered him with her reticule. “Now see here!” the man gasped, outraged.

“Och, but you’re a dafty, you are,” she said calmly enough, but her eyes glared at him furiously. “I’m no’ leaving here until I’ve seen Anthony. I didna take the risk of coming here just to be turned away, you ken? Now tell him—just tell him there’s a lady to see him. Do it, mon, or I swear I’ll—”

Dobson turned away before she could complete the threat. Stiff-backed, he mounted the stairs, deliberated taking his time. Lady indeed. Never in all his considerable years in Sir Anthony’s employ had he seen the like. Ladies didn’t accost a man just for doing his duty. The very idea. What
had
Sir Anthony stooped to, to become involved with such a brazen creature?

Out of sight of the foyer where he had left her, Dobson considered waiting a few moments and then simply returning to try again to oust the woman. After all, Sir Anthony had come home in a foul disposition because he was late for a family gathering at
his brother Edward’s house. Lord James and Master Jeremy had already left for it. Even if Sir Anthony were inclined to see this particular woman, he had no time. He was changing now, and in fact would be down shortly. He would
not
care to be confronted with any further delay in the form of a pushy female of questionable quality. If it were any other appointment, it wouldn’t matter so much. But family came first with Sir Anthony. It always had and always would.

And yet…Dobson couldn’t shake the implied threat from his mind. He had never encountered a caller so insistent on having her way, discounting Sir Anthony’s own family, of course. Would she scream, or worse, become violent again? Unthinkable. But perhaps he ought to at least inform Sir Anthony of the problem.

The answer to his knock was curt. Dobson stepped warily into the room. He had only to look at Willis, Sir Anthony’s valet, to see there had been no improvement in disposition. The man’s expression was harried, as if he had already had a full measure of Sir Anthony’s acerbic tongue.

And then Sir Anthony swung around, giving Dobson pause. He rarely saw him in this state of undress. He wore only his trousers and was in the process of towel-drying his thick black hair.

Again the impatient curtness. “What is it, Dobson?”

“A woman, sir. She pushed her way in, demanding to speak with you.”

Anthony turned away. “Get rid of her.”

“I tried, sir. She refuses to leave.”

“Who is she?”

Here Dobson couldn’t conceal his disgust. “She wouldn’t give her name, but claims to be a lady.”

“Is she?”

“I have my doubts, sir.”

Anthony tossed the towel aside with obvious annoyance. “Bloody hell, she’s probably here for James. I should have known his tavern doxies would start showing up on my doorstep if he stayed for any length of time.”

Dobson was reluctant to clarify. “Begging your pardon, sir, but she mentioned your name, not Lord Malory’s.”

Anthony scowled. “Then use your wits, man. The only women who come here come by invitation. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And would I have extended an invitation tonight, with a previous engagement?”

“No, sir.”

“Then why are you bothering me with this?”

Dobson could feel the heat rising under his collar. “For permission to force her out the door, sir. She won’t leave of her own accord.”

“By all means,” Anthony replied dryly. “Use one of the footmen if you don’t think you can manage on your own, but get rid of her before I come down.”

The heat crept up Dobson’s cheeks. “Thank you, sir. I will get help, I think. I don’t care to confront that Scot’s temper again on my own.”

“What was that?” Anthony asked so forcefully, Dobson’s color washed clean away.

“I—I—”

“Did you say she’s Scottish?”

“No, no, she only sounded—”

“Blister it, man, why didn’t you say so? Show her up here and hurry, before she decides to leave.”

“Before she—” Dodson’s mouth dropped open, but a glance about the room prompted a “
Here
, sir?”


Now
, Dobson.”

Chapter Seventeen

A
nthony couldn’t believe it. Even when she walked through the door, tossed Dobson a withering look, then turned the same lethal glare on Anthony, he still couldn’t believe it.

“That’s a very rude mon you have for a butler, Sir Anthony.”

He simply grinned at her, standing there with her foot tapping and her arms crossed over her chest. “When I gave you my address, sweetheart, it was so you could send me a message if the need arose, not for you to show up on my doorstep. You do realize the impropriety? This is strictly a bachelor’s residence. I even have my brother and nephew staying with me—”

“Well, if they’re here, then I’m no’ alone wi’ you, am I now?”

“I hate to disappoint you, my dear, but they are out for the evening and you are in fact very much alone with me. As you can see, I was preparing to go out myself, which is why Dobson was so reluctant to admit you.”

What she saw, when she got a good look at him through the fumes of her anger, was that he looked more as if he were prepared for bed. He wore a short quilted robe of silver-blue satin over trousers, and nothing else. The robe he was just now belting, but not before she had had a glimpse of his bare chest and the sparse mat of black curls there. His hair was damp, hand-combed back from his forehead, with
drying tendrils beginning to curl over each temple. He looked more sensual than she had ever seen him, and it was all she could do to tear her eyes away and even remember why she was here.

The trouble was, her eyes lit next on a bed, and it struck her with the force of a blow where he had received her. His
bedroom
. Hell’s teeth!

“Did you know it was me—no, you couldna,” she answered herself, her eyes flying back to his. “Do you receive all your callers up here?”

Anthony chuckled at this. “Only when I’m in a hurry, my dear.”

She frowned, not at all amused, but made a concerted effort to pull herself together. To do that, she had to look away from him again.

“I won’t keep you long, Sir Anthony. I haven’t the time to waste myself. Something happened—well, that needn’t concern you. Suffice it to say, I’ve run out of time. I need a name from you, and I need it now.”

His humor fled. He was afraid he knew exactly what she was talking about, and that certainty produced a tightening in his belly that was most uncomfortable. His being her confidant had been no more than an excuse to get close to her. Not bloody likely would he defeat his own purpose by helping to get her married. He had meant to delay that eventuality indefinitely and seduce her before it ever became a fact. Now here she was demanding a name from him, which he should have if he had actually done what he had told her he would do, which he hadn’t. Obviously, her need for a confidant was at an end. If he didn’t give her a name, she would make her own choice, good or bad. He had no doubt a-tall.

“What the bloody hell happened?”

She blinked at his harsh tone, coming so unexpectedly. “I told you, that doesn’t concern you.”

“Then humor me, and while you’re at it, you can tell me why you’re going about this marriage business in an either-or fashion, and why the rush.”

“It’s none of your business,” she insisted.

“If you want a name, my dear, you’d best make it my business.”

“That’s—that’s—”

“Not very sporting of me, I know.”

“Beast!”

His humor returned in the face of her rage. God, she was beautiful when her eyes flashed like that. The golden flecks seemed to blaze, to match the fire of her hair. It dawned on him suddenly that she was really in his house, in his bedroom, where he had imagined her countless times but had been unable to figure a way to get her there himself.

The grin that curled his lips infuriated her even more.
You’ve come to my lair, sweetheart
, he couldn’t help thinking.
I have you now
.

To her, he suggested, “A drink?”

“You’d drive a saint to it,” she retorted, but nodded just the same and took a hefty swallow of the brandy he handed her a moment later.

“Well?” he prompted when she did no more than continue to glower resentfully at him.

“It has to do with my grandfather, and his making me promise I’d marry as soon as he passed away.”

“I know that,” Anthony said calmly. “Now tell me why he wanted such a promise.”

“Very well!” she snapped. “I have a distant cousin who means to marry me at any cost.”

“So?”

“I didn’t say he wants to, but means to, whether
I
want to or not. Do you ken now? If Geordie Cameron gets his hands on me, he’ll force me to it.”

“I take it you’d rather not have him?”

“Dinna be daft, mon,” she said impatiently, beginning to pace a circle around him. “Would I be willing to wed a near stranger for any other reason?”

“No, I don’t suppose so.”

Roslynn gasped, catching his smile. “You think it’s amusing?”

“What I think, sweetheart, is that you’ve made too much of it. All you need is to have someone persuade this cousin of yours that he’d be healthier if he looked somewhere else for a wife.”

“You?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I wouldn’t mind doing you such a service.”

She nearly hit him. She finished off her brandy instead, grateful for its calming effect.

“Let me tell you something, Anthony Malory. This is my life you’re suggesting you gamble with, not yours. You don’t know Geordie. You don’t know how obsessed he is with getting his hands on my grandfather’s fortune through me. He’ll do anything to get it, and once he does, what’s to stop him from arranging a convenient accident for me, or locking me up somewhere and claiming I’ve gone daft or something? A little warning from you wouldn’t scare him off, even if you could manage to find him to do so. Nothing will. The only way I can protect myself is to marry someone else.”

BOOK: Tender Rebel
10.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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