The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) (43 page)

“Of course, once you move out there you’ll have to redecorate,” Gideon said. “The guest suites haven’t been used for some time.”

They’ve been used
, Perry thought.
But not for guests
. “Indeed, it will give them something to do.”

Francine watched as they conversed like she wasn’t even there. She frowned.

“Perhaps you could have them plan a dinner or small gathering,” Gideon said.

She was growing more and more frustrated. She’d been rather self-sufficient until she wound up here, and she hadn’t minded the care everyone had taken with her, but it was starting to get on her nerves that nobody seemed to consider that she might have an opinion. Her face drew taut, her mouth pursed, and her fists clenched.

“Do not manage me further, gentlemen, I’m sick of it. What I would appreciate is a full explanation of all these plans you’ve made without asking me.” Her voice was clear as a bell, and her speech carried a gently lilting accent she didn’t remember acquiring. She cleared her throat, smiling at the lack of pain. Her muscles didn’t react by tightening. She felt her neck, but there was no swelling.

Gideon smiled.
She even sounds beautiful
. Her voice was rich and full, not meager and squeaky, no longer fouled by the tension and swelling that had distorted it. “Of course, Lady Francine, I beg your pardon. Everything’s happened so quickly since your family arrived at Eildon, I’m not sure of what we’ve managed to tell you and what we haven’t.”

“Well, then,” she said. “Start at the beginning.”

Gideon nodded and exchanged a wary glance with Perry. They discussed the events of the Larrabees’ visit and the arrangements they’d made, most of which she already knew. It was the unpleasant details that she didn’t. When they finished, Francine sat with her hands folded in her lap, concentrating rather resolutely on something.

The men waited patiently.

With a confused look, she said, “So this Lord Heppewhatsit—”

“Hepple
wort
,” Gideon corrected.

“Yes. He…
purchased
me?” Her eyebrows knitted together.

They both nodded.

“And the two girls, they were also bartered away?”

Again they nodded.

“That’s horrific. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

Gideon looked at her with grave concern. “You still don’t remember anything about Lord Hepplewort, or your family, or any of this?”

“No,” she replied swiftly. “It’s as though you are telling me of someone else’s life. I feel no connection to any of the people you are talking about, other than a desire to help the girls.” She looked at Perry. “Which you’ve already done, so thank you.” She thought about it a bit longer. “When will they arrive? It’s been a couple of weeks since they left for France, yes?”

“Almost a fortnight, yes. They should be arriving here in London within the week, which is why it’s so important that we go to Hepplewort now.”

“Oh.” She glanced at Gideon. “And how long will the trip be?”

“Only two days, maybe three. I should hope. We believe he’s in residence in Shropshire, which is most of a day’s drive, but we’ve two other stops on the return.”

Two days
, she thought.
I can wait two days
.

“I will endeavor to make it two,” Gideon said with a warm smile.

Perry glared at him over the rim of his snifter.

Francine saw the glance and cleared her throat. “And, when you return, I’ll be living with Lord Trumbull?”

“No,” Gideon cut in, before his brother could answer. Gideon grimaced apologetically. “I mean... You shall be living in his home, as he is your guardian, but you will not be living together.”

“Of course.” She nodded with a smile. “Lord Trumbull, we are moving to Westcreek?”

Perry exchanged another glance with Gideon before answering. “Until the sisters arrive, we will stay in London. Then we should go to Westcreek Park, which is not far outside London. That’s where you and your sisters will live until each of you is old enough to enter Society and find a suitable husband.”

Francine darted her eyes to Gideon. He grinned.

“Don’t worry, I’ve several suitors who are waiting to call on you,” Perry said smartly, then sighed. “But I’ve already given His Grace permission to court you,” he added, as if it was an afterthought.

She blushed and turned her face away. It all seemed a bit outlandish, but in the end she was dating her duke. She would be close to him and she would not be forced to leave.

This is exactly what I want, isn’t it?
Nobody bothered to ask me, but that doesn’t change the answer, does it?
She sighed heavily, suddenly more resigned than overjoyed.

Perry turned to Gideon. “Have you decided on the parties Francine will attend?” She looked up once again, curious, as they seemed to be starting another conversation around her.

“No. I thought I would leave that to your inimitable knowledge and discretion. However, Francine’s first ball
should
be her coming out, which I will host here at Roxleigh House.” He inclined his head toward Francine. “If that suits you?”

Her tension melted and she smiled. “Yes, I think so. What exactly do you do at a coming out?”

“It is your formal introduction to Society,” Gideon said. “Before the ball, you aren’t allowed to
be
in proper Society. But it is mostly an event for socializing among the
ton.
The events tend to be a spectacle. There will be dancing, possibly a dinner, and many young girls attempting to capture the eye of an eligible peer.”

“Like you?” she asked.

“Not like me,” he said with a smile. “As you’ve already caught my eye, and my—”

Perry cleared his throat in warning.

She blushed. “Dancing?”

Gideon nodded. “Oh yes, there will be much dancing. Waltzes mostly,” he replied, and she smiled, trying to hide her panic. “Francine?”

“Yes?” she said cautiously.

“Is there something else?” he asked, a hint of suspicion coloring his tone.

She shook her head as she blushed again. “No. No, it’s nothing. I, uh, I should find Carole,” she said quickly as she stood, drawing the brothers from their chairs, then turned and left.

“What is it?” Perry asked after the door closed.

“I’m not sure, but I intend to find out. In the meantime, let’s get this nasty bit of business done with, shall we?”

“This is bound to be the ugliest business I’ve ever had need to attend to,” Gideon said as he stood looking out the window across the gardens of Hepplewort’s estate. Perry walked around the room, inspecting the decorations. The appointments were appalling, entirely over-styled and serving only one purpose: to demonstrate Hepplewort’s wealth. Every piece of exposed wood was gilded, and every hem and edge was trimmed with fringe or tassels.

“Well, we are certainly in the proper room for a bit of ugliness.” Perry frowned as he flicked a tassel that dangled off the satin-upholstered divan. “And what exactly is this thing? It cannot be comfortable to sit upon without a backrest,” he said with a sneer.

Gideon turned. “Oh, come now, Perry, I’m sure
you
could find something to use it for.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

Perry grinned. “Indeed. Then perhaps it should be in a bedchamber. However, the fabric looks a bit slippery for
that
.”

The door opened, and the brothers stood shoulder to shoulder across from the entry to greet the earl. Gideon straightened his shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back and standing tall. Perry followed suit and they watched intently as Lord Hepplewort entered the room. He wore an old, thick, brown brocade jacket, the sleeves torn from duress, and his trousers and shirt looked as though they had been slept in.

Hepplewort instantly realized who they were. “Gentlemen, where is my bride?” he asked without preamble. He plopped himself down on an olive-green, satin wing-back chair dripping with gold tassels, then motioned to the chairs across from him.

Gideon sat, allowing Perry to take the lead.

Perry chose to stand, directly in front of Hepplewort. “My lord. I am Lord Peregrine Trumbull, Viscount Roxleigh and this is His Gra—”

Hepplewort cut him off with a dismissive wave. “I am aware of who you
both
are. What I am interested in is your business here, as you don’t appear to have returned my betrothed,” he snapped.

Gideon raised a brow, looking up to his brother as he waited for his retort.

“My lord. We have a business matter to discuss concerning Miss Francine Larrabee,” Perry said resolutely.

Hepplewort frowned. “Who is
Francine
Larrabee?”

“I beg pardon,
Madeleine
Larrabee,” Perry said quickly.

Hepplewort stood. “Yes, Madeleine. What have you done with my fiancée?” The color in his cheeks rose from his collar like a steam pot. His nose barely reached the top button of Perry’s waistcoat at full height. “Out with it, then.”

Gideon stood and moved next to his brother. “Lord Hepplewort, if you let my brother finish, that’s precisely what we are here to discuss.”

The sight of the two large, foreboding men seemed to sober Hepplewort, and he backed up a pace.

Gideon thrust a bundle of papers at Hepplewort as Perry spoke. “You will find in these documents that M. and Mme. Larrabee have entrusted me as guardian for their three youngest daughters, Miss Madeleine Larrabee included. All previous agreements are hereby dissolved. I have brought reparations. What you already paid for Madeleine, plus five percent.”

Hepplewort began to shake, his jowls vibrating. “What interest have you in my— Why would you? What is the meaning of this?” he spat.

“This is a simple guardianship. Her father agreed to allow me to act as guardian in his stead, to finish their education in a
proper
manner, and to provide them a dowry for a
suitable
match.”

“But— Why?”

Gideon started to answer, but Perry stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Because it is the right thing to do,” he said simply.

Hepplewort launched himself at Perry but Gideon moved in front of him, taking Hepplewort up by the collar. The squat, corpulent man sank into his clothes, his flesh gathering at his chins as Gideon lifted him.

“You will compose yourself,” Gideon said, furious. “This matter isn’t the only one with which we have issue. I recommend you control your mouth or I will send for the constable and see to it that you are taken to the Dana,” he threatened, his gaze narrowed on the man.

Hepplewort stared at him from overwrought, bloodshot eyes, trying to quickly determine the duke’s true intent.

“This is your copy of the agreement,” Perry said, stuffing it in Hepplewort’s jacket pocket. “You may have your solicitor look it over, though he will undoubtedly find it infallible.”

Gideon lessened his grip on Hepplewort, slowly lowering him to his feet. “You have no more business with Larrabee. Any and all contact should be directed specifically to Lord Trumbull—or better, to his solicitor.”

Hepplewort jerked loose and backed away, straightening his jacket and shirt and smoothing his unruly tufts of hair. Looking from Perry to Gideon, he scowled. “This matter is
not
finished,” he spat, causing Gideon to flinch as if his very saliva was toxic. “She is mine. You cannot keep her from me.”

Perry advanced on him, forcing him backward until he fell into his chair. “This matter
is
finished, and she
will
be kept from you. You will not, under any circumstance, endeavor to interact with
any
of my wards, at
any
time, for
any
reason. Have I made myself perfectly clear?” he asked as he leaned over the plop of a man.

Hepplewort sputtered throatily as he shriveled further into the gaudy armchair. “I have a contract with Larrabee—”

Gideon cut him off. “As you recall,
that
contract was unfinished. You were not yet wed, and you did not complete the payment as agreed. Since there was no wedding, no consummation, and the payment was not made in full, we are returning your original expenses and canceling that contract on behalf of Larrabee. There is
nothing
more
to be
done
.”

Hepplewort lifted his shaking hand and pointed at Gideon. “You! You stole my bride! You held her hostage! You have done this to me!”

“You have done this to yourself. Our business here is concluded. Might I recommend you do not attempt to obtain another wife by similar means?” Gideon boomed.