Lorraine Heath - Midnight Pleasures with a Scoundrel

“Sorry, Swindler. Can’t see it. I think it more likely that she stabbed him, the shock of it caused unconsciousness, then his brother came in for his nightly brandy and decided he wouldn’t mind having the title after all. Finished what Miss Watkins began. You’re my best man. I’m surprised you didn’t draw the same conclusion. Think about it.”

Swindler felt Sir David’s gaze fall heavily on him. “The new Rockberry is cut from the same cloth as his brother.”

“There you are,” Sir David said.

“A knife to the chest is not something from which one easily recovers. Even if his brother had not come in and finished the deed, it’s quite possible Rockberry would have died of the wound eventually. And if she caught his lung-”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Hard to say.”

“Just to be clear, sir, you intend to charge the new Lord Rockberry with the murder of the previous Lord Rockberry?”

“Depends, Swindler. Does my best man believe it happened as I described?”

Swindler remembered studying the gaping wound, remembered Eleanor saying that she’d jabbed Rockberry and stepped back. Sir David’s scenario was possible. And if it hadn’t happened that way-he couldn’t see giving either Rockberry the power to ruin another sister’s life. “Yes, sir. I concur that it could have happened just that way.”

“Jolly good. I shall write up my report, and we shall so testify if called before the House of Lords.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now that we have that nasty business out of the way, tell me everything you know about Miss Eleanor Watkins-the real Eleanor.”

With a low chuckle, Swindler proceeded to do exactly that.

They treated Emma as though she was a princess. Eleanor and the duchess bathed her and washed her hair. They toweled her dry and braided her hair. They helped her slip into her softest night rail. When Emma crawled into bed, Eleanor clambered in with her and they held each other tightly, just as they had when they were young girls, and as on the night after they discovered Elisabeth at the bottom of the cliffs.

They stopped sharing the same room shortly after their father died and Eleanor had moved into his bedchamber. But tonight they needed to be together. Still, there was an emptiness to the bed.

“I miss her so much,” Eleanor said, as though reading Emma’s mind.

“Eleanor, I…” She let her voice trail off.

“What, dear sister?”

“I felt as though she was with me tonight. In that horrible room. That she was there, urging me on, giving me the strength to attack Rockberry. If so, then perhaps she forgives me for yelling at her.”

“Oh, Emma.” Eleanor squeezed her tightly. “She knows you didn’t mean it.”

“I hope so. I’d give anything to have her back.”

“I know. I would, too.”

They lay in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own reflections of Elisabeth. Her sweet nature, her adventuresome spirit.

After a long while Emma said, “Eleanor, tell me about Sir David.”

Eleanor’s laughter circled around them. “Isn’t he absolutely wonderful?”

“How did it all come about?”

“Mr. Swindler-”

“You can call him James.”

“All right. James led me to the carriage, handed me up, and there was this man sitting there in the shadows. Sir David. James’s superior. James told me that Sir David would see to matters at the gardens. I was so nervous. But Sir David calmed me with quiet words and reassurances. He had such faith in me.

“He explained that he had other men at Cremorne to keep an eye out. I was simply to walk around until someone approached me. No one ever did. I can’t imagine what Rockberry was thinking to abduct you from here. He must have known that they would know it was him. He took no pains at all to disguise what he was about.”

Emma fought to remember what she’d heard in the carriage. “It was part of the game, I think. To be so bold, so arrogant. And then to find a way to get away with it. He thought no one could touch him.”

“I wonder what they’re going to do about him.”

“And the others,” Emma whispered. “They all need to pay. I know James and his friends have the means to see someone punished who deserves it, by making him trade places with someone who doesn’t. We should have trusted him from the beginning, Eleanor.”

“But we trust him now. That should count for something.”

They lay in silence for several minutes before Eleanor said, “The duchess has offered to introduce us into society.”

“All I want, Eleanor, is to return home.”

Sir David’s office was again shadowed. Standing before his desk, Swindler was acutely aware of the presence in the corner, although this time the scent wafting toward him was decidedly feminine.

“We’ve identified the men you picked up two nights ago,” Sir David said. “The ladies have been released to their fathers, but the gentlemen-although I’m offended to refer to them as such-must be dealt with. Rockberry will be tried by his peers for the murder of his brother. The other five we would prefer to simply transport, but as two are lords, matters must be handled with a bit more delicacy. They must disappear, but we wish no harm to come to them in the process.

“I’m well aware, Swindler, that you have the skills to make undesirables disappear, and that you often remove from prison those who have been condemned to live within its walls. We would like it to appear as though the lords have died so their heirs may take the reins. Are you up to the task?”

Swindler gave a brusque nod. Sometimes it was better not to voice words.

“There will be a knighthood in it for you, Swindler,” Sir David said.

Swindler turned to the corner, knelt, and bowed his head. “I require no knighthood to faithfully serve her majesty. I would request that Misses Emma and Eleanor Watkins be granted pardon for any crimes that might be brought against them now or in the future in relation to this incident.”

“So it shall be,” the soft feminine voice said.

Swindler did not look up as the swishing of skirts heralded the queen’s departure.

“Didn’t trust me to see to matters, Swindler?” Sir David asked.

“No offense, sir, but I learned long ago to never let an opportunity pass for gaining what I wanted.”

“No offense taken, Swindler. Now, what’s your plan for dealing with the lords?”

“They make a lovely couple, don’t you think?” Emma asked.

She and Swindler were strolling in Hyde Park, following only a short distance behind Eleanor and Sir David. During the past week, Emma had begun to gain weight, and she’d lost the dark circles beneath her eyes. She looked calm, content, almost happy.

“Sir David is a good man,” Swindler said. He hadn’t quite gotten accustomed to the idea that Sir David had an interest in Eleanor, yet it appeared his superior was quite smitten.

“He told Eleanor that we wouldn’t be arrested.”

“There’s no reason. As we see it, and will testify, Rockberry murdered his brother. The fact that Eleanor stabbed him first is incidental.” He could feel her gaze on him, but he stared ahead, not wanting her to see anything in his eyes that might indicate compromises had been made.

“I suppose then that we can return to the cottage at any time.”

The thought caused a profound emptiness to sweep through him. During the past week, he’d visited with her every afternoon and had dined with her twice at Frannie’s. He couldn’t deny that their reasons for being with each other in the beginning had not been pure-they’d both been guilty of deception. But neither could he deny that he cared deeply for Emma. That in spite of his reason for pursuing her, her reason for allowing herself to be caught, something very precious existed between them.

“I’m certain that Frannie would be pleased to give both you and Eleanor a Season if you wish it,” he said, part of him hoping she’d accept so she would be in London longer and he might have the opportunity to see her again; part of him hoping she had no desire to be courted.

“I don’t wish to have a Season,” she said quietly. “I don’t think any ball could ever compare to the last one I attended.”

He stopped walking. So did she. She was looking at him now, her blue eyes locked onto his.

“I will never be a man of wealth and means, Emma. I make a respectable income. Claybourne and Dodger both offered me the opportunity to go into business ventures with them, but the risk was too high. I could have ended up with nothing. They are wealthy beyond imagining and I have enough to keep me content.”

“I don’t care about money,” she said.

“It is quite possible that I will be knighted. It has been mentioned, but-”

“I don’t give a fig about rank.”

Good God, the woman was impossible to please. What did she want? What could he offer her?

“Emma-”

She stepped nearer to him. “You once told me I owned your heart.”

“You do.”

“Are you going to allow me to leave, then? To return to my cottage by the sea?”

“I want you to be happy.”

“Then ask me to marry you.”

It was a beautiful day in the spring in the village near the small cottage by the sea. They said that the sky had never been as blue, the breeze as gentle. Everyone who lived in the village or nearby, sat in the church, quivering with excitement and anticipation. Their small community had never had such a gathering of prominent persons.

The Duke and Duchess of Greystone, the Earl and Countess of Claybourne. In addition, there was a man who held no title, but everyone knew by the way Jack Dodger dressed and held himself that he was a man of immense wealth. At his side was a lady who was obviously nobility. It was rumored that the last newcomer, Dr. William Graves, was a personal physician to the queen herself.

All the whisperings about the illustrious guests settled into silence when the brides strolled side by side down the aisle. No father accompanied them, no ladies waited on them. The sisters were as they’d been throughout their lives: the truest of friends. But where they’d once needed no more than each other, now they needed-wanted-the two men who waited for them at the altar.

While Eleanor took her place beside Sir David, Emma smiled warmly and took the arm that Sir James offered her. She could scarcely believe that this wonderful gentleman was going to marry her.

As the vicar began talking about love, she barely listened because there was nothing he could say that she didn’t already know, nothing he could describe that was more wonderful than what she saw reflected in James’s eyes.

Within the green depths was the truest of adoration and pride. This man wanted her as his wife forever. And she wanted him as her husband. She never wanted to look away from him, never wanted to be without him. He stood so tall and handsome, so confident and sure. A boy with regrets who had grown into a man determined to atone for childish mistakes, a man who accepted her as she was, flaws and all.

Against his waistcoat, she could see the gold chain attached to the watch that he’d tucked into his pocket. It had been her wedding gift to him. On the back she’d had inscribed, NO GREATER LOVE.

“To honor your father,” she’d told him. “Because of his sacrifice, I have you.”

Tears had welled in James’s eyes. He’d not spoken-she thought because his throat had tightened with emotion. But he had closed his strong fingers around it. And now he wore it for the first time-as she became his wife.

Emma listened as Eleanor and Sir David exchanged vows. She and Eleanor would be living in London, in residences not too far from each other. Emma wasn’t certain how James and Sir David had managed it, but she was beginning to realize that there was nothing James couldn’t accomplish if he thought it was the way things should be.

Then it was their turn-hers and James’s-to profess their love, to make their promises. For better or worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. She would have it no other way. She would stand by this man until she drew her last breath, knowing that he would always stand beside her as well.

As the vicar pronounced them man and wife, the sun coming in through the stained-glass windows seemed to shine a little brighter, and Emma imagined it was Elisabeth smiling down on them.

Eleanor and Sir David left for London shortly after the ceremony ended, leaving the cottage for Emma and James. Now, after having locked up, he stood in the doorway of the bedchamber and watched as she, sitting on the edge of the window, glided her brush through her hair.

“Did you know I was watching that night when you brushed your hair in the window at your lodgings?” he asked.