His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) (14 page)

“How did you let this happen?” Sir Wilfrid Culpepper demanded icily. “You are her father—you should have been able to control the little bitch. A father should always be able to bring their little whelps to heel. A father isn’t a proper father, if he cannot control his family, your word is law. Sad that wasn’t the case with you, eh, Hardwicke?”

Lord Broadway stood cowering in front of him. He clutched his hat in his hand, and kept pulling at it. It would be bent out of shape by the time he was done with it. “It would seem—it would seem that my youngest daughter is a headstrong girl, and she masked it with her timidity. I didn’t know she would turn out to be so bloody clever. She never portrayed such tenacity before. Indeed, we within the family always believed her to be a little too weak. I always thought she would faint dead away at the first sign of trouble. We obviously underestimated her.”

“Twaddle. We had an agreement, Hardwicke,” he said stonily, narrowing his eyes at the man. He leaned forward on his elbows, and stared the man down.

“Aye, I know, sir. Alas, it is an agreement that can no longer be fulfilled. It is regrettable.”

“There are no regrets in my line of work, Hardwicke. There are only regrets if one is dead. I shall have compensation—and in the end, I shall have what is rightfully mine, do you understand? You have no more wit than hair on your head,” Wilfrid snorted. He hated weakness, and Hardwicke had far too much of that in him. The man could never stand up for himself, and he had been easy to corrupt. He had an intense hunger for the ladies, and he didn’t know when to quit when it came to the gaming tables. He was a fool, and fools like him were the ones that Culpepper preyed upon. He ruined them, tearing their live apart with satisfaction. Once they were truly indebted to him, and safely in his pocket, he gave them his set of terms. He told them what they had to do in order to settle their debts to him.

With Hardwicke, he had asked for his daughter. With his other fools, he asked for whatever he believed would cause them the most pain. Some had to go through the public humiliation of auctioning off their estates, while others had to find themselves in the scandal sheets. Some he told to leave England, or else he would smear their good names. He liked being the puppet master, and making his subjects dance to his tune. He delighted in spreading pain and misery to the stuck up jackanapes who had once delivered such pain to his family.

“I do, sir. But…you cannot take what I do not have,” he sputtered. “You cannot milk the pigeon.”

Wilfrid laughed, and watched Hardwicke sweat even more. “Oh, but milk you, I shall. You do have a few things left that I can take, and take them I shall. You and yours will leave your townhouse immediately. Your life here in London amongst the Society of your peers is over. You can find your way to the country somehow. Hire a post chaise, if you can scrape together enough money, and live in that dilapidated little country manor that is your family’s seat. Anything that is of value, my men will come and take from you. When I am done with you, you shall have absolutely nothing valuable left to your name, except for that precious title of yours. Your lovely wife shan’t be able to hold any balls this coming Season. Such a shame. Ah, well, that is the price you pay when you play with me. You can starve for all I care, is that understood?”

“You…you…you...cannot do that to me, Sir Wilfrid. You…cannot,” Hardwicke stammered. “I am a Peer of the Realm—I am an Earl—I…I outrank you. You are merely a baronet, you are nothing compared to what I am.”

“I don’t give a bloody shite who you are, Hardwicke. I am not easily impressed. You are right. You do outrank me. But I don’t give a toss about that. I was once a poor country doctor’s son, and now as you see, I am one of the most powerful men in the ton. You should be on your knees begging, and appealing to my better nature. Alas, it wouldn’t do you any good, I haven’t a better nature, so heed my words well, you lily livered coward. I have ruined better men than you. You are a featherbrained dunderhead to think that you are any different. I shan’t show you any mercy. You are within my grasp, and I am squeezing hard. So find your bloody shrinking bollocks, and be the man you have never had to be. You will have to be strong for your family.”

Strength didn’t seem to run through Hardwicke’s veins. He was a vile creature. Ready to sell out his own daughter without even giving him a struggle. He had expected more. There were monsters in this world even worse than he.

“Curse my family. Curse the whole godforsaken lot of them. They are bunch of arseholes. The only one I owe any loyalty to, is my son, James. None of the rest have ever done anything for me. They are a bloody useless lot. They are nothing to me. They can all rot for all I care. James is the only one who deserves my loyalty and my love. He is the only one I really cherish. He is the only deserving of my fatherly love.” True emotion crossed Hardwicke’s face with that fervent declaration.

Wilfrid smiled craftily, and leaned back in his leather chair behind his beloved desk. He had taken this desk from a man who had once called him a stupid little pillock who had the manners, bearing and body odour of a pig. He had seen that little bastard’s bloodline ruined. With gleeful satisfaction, he had watched the man’s entire estate go up for auction. Seeing his wife wail loudly, while her things were being auctioned off, and the pain in the stupid prick’s eyes had given Wilfrid intense pleasure.

He liked to see others worlds collapse around them. It gave him a high that no amount of opium ever could.

While Wilfrid still lusted after Hardwicke’s daughter, Lady Ann, he now knew how to strike against Hardwicke, should he not do exactly what he wanted him to.

“And that is why you shall toe the mark, Hardwicke,” he said calmly, attempting to hold his temper and not lash out at the man the way he wanted to. “Unless, of course, you would like your title to go to your brother’s eldest son. It would be regrettable if James were to have an accident, wouldn’t it? Indeed, yes, now that would truly come with some remorse. On your part. Not mine. You, sir, are my marionette, always remember that. You are in my pocket now. I pull your strings, and you do whatever I want you to. You are no longer your own man. Sins like yours, always come with a terrible price. Now, bring your ass to anchor, and you tell me everything that you know about the little prick, Lord Evesham.” He nodded at his men, and they helped the Earl into the chair that sat opposite Wilfrid’s desk.

“I…I do not know much about Clarence Deville,” Hardwicke said, his voice wobbling with his nervousness. Sweat beaded across his forehead and trickled down to his eyes. Hardwicke reached for his handkerchief and dabbed at it anxiously. It wasn’t nearly hot enough for him to perspiring so.

“I am quite certain that you do. Now, work that pea sized brain of yours, and tell me about all that little pup holds dear. I would like to know who I am going to take away from him first.”

“He…he surrounds himself with powerful men. Capable men. Ruffians and thugs the lot of them. You will not be able to move against anyone that he loves. They are all well protected—and well connected. You…you do not want to move against any of them—that would invoke their wrath, and you do not want to do that. Trust me. It isn’t good to wake a sleeping hound. The Devilles have powerful allies, and their Lovett relatives are one of those allies. I saw that Edward Lovett is in Town. He is not a man you want to offend, sir. People whisper about him—and the things they say—well, he is not a man to be trifled with. His quiet and unassuming nature hides a cunning and active mind. He has power the likes of which we haven’t seen in our lifetime. You need to stay away from him, or…or…you shall rue it bitterly.”

“I do believe, Hardwicke that you are underestimating me again. Edward Lovett is nothing to me. He doesn’t even have a title. He shan’t be anything against my might. I am well connected. My power knows no bounds. As for Lord Evesham. The men he has working for him, shall be no match for the muscle I employ.”

“They do not work for him, sir. They are his friends. They call him mate. They take no monetary compensation from him. They do not require it. They are wealthy men.”

“Hmm…yes. I think I have heard of them. They have come up in the world, haven’t they? Didn’t they start out as enlisted men in the Army? Lord Spaulding and Lord Prescott. They must all have weaknesses. Men do not go through life without collecting a few of those.” He looked to his men who stood flanking Lord Broadway. “Find out what those vulnerabilities are.” The men nodded their heads, and left his study. Once they left, two other men came inside to watch Hardwicke.

Now, Hardwicke looked nervous. By the way a vein bulged in his forehead, he looked as if he was going to have a fit. Wilfrid might not have to worry about the sniveling little Earl for much longer. He appeared to be on death’s doorstep. He wagered that before the end of the year, the old goat’s heart would give out on him—and if it didn’t stop beating from natural causes—Wilfrid might help it along.

“Pray, escort the Earl back to his townhouse, and watch to make sure that he and his family vacate the premises, as soon as possible. I would keep you here longer, Hardwicke, and work you for more information, but you don’t seem to have the intellectual aptitude. I don’t think you know much of anything that would be particularly useful to me. Yes. All in all, you are useless.”

“Did you just call me a useless idiot?” Hardwicke blustered.

“I do believe you are onto something there. I am quite certain your village misses you,” he said, smiling. He waved his hand dismissively. “I tire of Lord Broadway. Take him from my sight.” His men pulled Lord Broadway out of his chair, and helped him none too gently out of the room.

Wilfrid looked down at the missive he had started to write, and reached for his quill pen. Many had started to use the metal pens outfitted with steel nibs, but he liked the quill pen, and had continued using them despite their antiquity.

He would have the new Lady Evesham—but he would rather make her a widow first.

Ann had never cared for traveling far distances.

The rocking motion of the carriage usually ended up making her feel a little queasy. She sighed, and pressed her fingers to her temple. The dull ache in her head that she’d had after her nightmare had only intensified. Now she had a raging headache, and she couldn’t wait to finally reach their destination.

The weather was blashy, and the dampness was starting to get to her. Once they reached Evesham Hall, she looked forward to curling up in front of a nice roaring fire with Clarence by her side, and perhaps, a hot cup of chocolate to warm her up.

“Your skin is starting to match the colour of your dress,” Clarence remarked, looking at her worriedly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I have never been a good traveler,” she confessed, “And I am not accustomed to traveling at this time of the year. I only go to visit my aunt in the spring, summer and autumn, as you well know. Town life seems to agree with me so much more in the winter.”

She was grateful for the heavy blanket that he had placed across her legs. She shivered, and leaned into Clarence’s warmth. He put his arm around her, and she sighed contentedly. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

“Cyril is a terrible traveler as well. Although, he doesn’t get sick like you do. He falls asleep for the whole journey,” he chuckled. “If you need the carriage to stop so you can get out to stretch your legs, just let me know. Many find that helps them during long journeys. I myself have been known to do it.”

“I…I would rather stay inside, considering the weather out there. I do feel sorry for your mates, though. They must be chilled right down to the bone. I hope they do not catch cold. The other men that are riding as our retinue, I trust they are mates of Tiny and Lucky’s?”

“Oh, indeed, yes. Mates of theirs from the Wars. They have only recently returned to England, and they were looking for work. As for them riding out in the harsh weather, they are used to it, I guess,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Gil and Felix prefer riding horseback. They told me that once. They also said they are accustomed to all sorts of inclement weather. I suppose they had to adjust to it during life in the Army. I cannot imagine what they had to endure. The rough terrain they would have had to march across. Knowing that at any moment, they might have breathed their last. I know that many died of disease during the Wars, over being killed in action, but still…I don’t know if I would have had the courage to do what they did. They forged their own destinies. I have had mine handed to me on a silver platter. I have lived a pampered and sheltered life in comparison.”

“You can’t compare yourself to them, Clarence. You are a good man, and you are nothing like some of the sniveling little lords I have seen out there. You have substance. You are brave. You took me as your wife realizing that you could be inviting danger into your life.”

“Still, we were born into our roles, weren’t we? We had little choice in the matter.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” she said sleepily. “We have both lived that kind of life.” She should have cuddled up close to Clarence before this. His presence comforted her, and made her sleepy. She yawned, and placed her hand over her mouth. “I think…I think I just might nod off.”

“That is splendid. I have made you go to sleep. I pride myself on being an entertaining fellow, and instead of boring you to tears, I have just bored you to sleep.”

She sighed, and was about to reply, but she felt far too drowsy. Lethargy pulled at her. The nightmare from earlier had weakened her considerably. Without a further thought, she slipped away into dreamland.

They sat like that for the remainder of the journey, and Clarence had joined her in a short nap. The carriage rolled over a particularly bumpy spot in the road, and startled him awake. He looked out the window and scanned their surroundings. They had entered the Vale of Evesham, and even at this time of the year. Its startling serene beauty gripped him. The peaceful wooded slopes, and the undulating hills beckoned to him. A dusting of snow blanketed the landscape, and it looked like a winter wonderland. Frost dusted firs added to the loveliness of it all. The wind whispered around them. Whispering a tune befitting of this time of the year. If they were lucky, they would be hit by a winter storm shortly. He yearned for more than just a dusting of snow. Their trip was almost at an end.

Clarence’s heart was full of love, even as sadness washed over him. This beautiful moment couldn’t last forever. The carriage would draw to a stop and they would have to disembark. He would have to disturb Ann once they reached their destination. He was loathe to wake her up, and considered attempting to carry her into the house without waking her. She muttered something he couldn’t quite make out, and then, with a jump, her eyes flew open. She looked a little confused and a little afraid, until her beautiful brown eyes settled on him.

“What time is it?” she asked sleepily, yawning.

“Time for us to bid adieu to this carriage. We have almost reached Evesham Hall.”

“Truly?” she asked, brightening visibly. “You haven’t told me much about Evesham Hall. When was it built?”

“It…well, it is a bit longer in the tooth than Alton Abbey. It has been renovated since it was originally constructed during the reign of King Henry VIII. We Devilles started off as Barons, then we were upgraded to Earls. Evesham Hall is our original family seat. When we were elevated to the rank of duke, the Earl of Evesham became a courtesy title for the heir, and the 1
st
Duke decided to build Alton Abbey as a means to show off his new rank. He was a bit of a proud peacock. He wanted to display all of his recent good fortunes, and hoped it would be a glittering jewel amongst the country retreats of the nobility.”

“I am sure Evesham Hall is quite charming—and it cannot be any worse than Broadway Manor. It is in such a sorry state. I used to be sad seeing it in such disrepair. It is crumbling and even the livable areas aren’t much to talk about. Part of it was damaged in a fire, and while Father believes that the other part is still good enough to live in—it’s not really good enough for man or beast. It needs major work done on it, and he has never wanted to put the money—or the time into it, preferring the exciting life in Town, over the slow pace of the Country. He has never thought that country living was ideal, and I expect he rather placed his hopes on my aunt leaving her grand manor house, and surrounding land to James. She married quite well you see. Papa used to scoff at her marrying below herself. The gentlemen wasn’t a peer, but when he learned how much the man was worth—well, that justified it in his mind. The two of them were quite in love. Alas, they were never blessed with children.”

“And he believes that she will pick James as her heir?”

“Oh, indeed, yes. Father thinks she shall because James is the eldest grandchild. He is older even than my uncle’s boys, and my uncle married before my father did. Father is very proud of the fact that James is the eldest grandson, he viewed at as a competition, and he and Mama came in first.”

“She might decide to leave her estate to you…or one of your sisters—or maybe even one of your cousins. It shows your father’s arrogance, doesn’t it? He shouldn’t think James is the center of her world.”

“He thinks James shall have it because my aunt doesn’t talk to my uncle, and the only reason she still talks to my father is because he toadies up to her.”

“Your father is such a charming fellow,” he mused, trying not to laugh.

“Isn’t he just,” she let out a dry chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry about Evesham Hall not meeting my expectations, Clarence. You have already exceeded all that I could ever have hoped for. As long as the roof doesn’t leak, and there are no other animals calling it home, save for dogs and cats, I shan’t be disappointed.”

“The roof doesn’t leak,” he laughed. “It is beautiful inside, and over the years it has been lovingly maintained. Thanks to our housekeeper, you shan’t find a bit of dust. She has eagle eyes, and makes the maids work hard.”

“I wonder what she will think of me.”

“I daresay she will think highly of you.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, Clarence. Not everyone thinks I am as angelic as you do. I don’t even think I am as virtuous as you do. I fear one day I shall fall off the pedestal you have placed me on, and the tumble just might injure my pride.”

“Not possible,” he said, as they drew up to Evesham Hall. The carriage door was whisked open by a footman, and Clarence climbed down first and then reached back to assist her. She stepped out of the carriage holding fast to Clarence. Sighing with delight, her eyes swept over the majesty of Evesham Hall. She was quite undone by it all. The sight reached straight down to her soul. It had an inviting feel to it. It made her feel at ease, as if she was being welcomed. It looked as if it had been lovingly cared for throughout the years. Exuding peace, it was a warm country retreat. She didn’t know how Clarence could stay away from it for so long. She looked forward to making this place her home. From what she could see, the private estate was set in a romantic hamlet of woods and hills, oh, how she would love to be here in the springtime. It stood in a formal garden of magnificent yews.

His staff, both the outside and the inside staff had lined up outside to welcome them back to Evesham Hall. She studied a few of them. The housekeeper looked like she was the age of the Dowager Duchess, and so did the butler. By contrast, the footmen and the maids were young and sprightly looking.

“Evesham Hall has nine hundred years of history to its name. I think there has been a house on this site since before William the Conqueror came. According to family legend, the first Deville who came over from Normandy, married a Saxon lady. Her father held the rank of Thane and he once held this land, and when William gifted it to my ancestor, he married the lady in an effort to ally their two houses, and bring peace to the valley. Apparently, their union didn’t exactly start out smoothly. She tried to kill him numerous times,” Clarence said wryly. “Eventually, their hatred turned to love, and they had a long and fruitful marriage, and together, they had twelve children.” He watched her shiver. “Come, let us guide you out of this weather.”

“No…I want to stay and look at it a while longer, Clarence. I didn’t think it would enchant me quite as much as it has. I have the odd feeling of being here before,” she sighed heavily. “I think I was always meant to be here.”

“The house is welcoming you home,” he said softly. “I have always felt as if it was a sanctuary of sorts.”

“I don’t know how you have ever left this beautiful place, Clarence.”

“To be honest, I haven’t spent much time here. Our family doesn’t usually retreat to this house. Although, Grandmamma comes here from time to time. Pop says that it captures our family motto perfectly.”

“What is the Deville family motto?” she asked softly.

“Vive bene, or live well,” he said softly.

“I confess, your family does that well.”

“They do, don’t they? Pop most of all. He certainly knows how to have a lot of fun,” he murmured. “We make merry better than any other family in the ton.”

“Maybe too much fun from time to time,” she teased, good naturedly.

Clarence grinned at her, and then, turned to regard the assembled servants. “I would like to introduce you all to your new countess, my wife, Ann, Countess of Evesham,” he said, holding her hand. She smiled at all of them. Some of the maids curtsied and some of the men bowed. He led her into the house, and she had little time to study her new surroundings, before he was leading her up the grand oak staircase that had carvings of a wide selection of fruits and vegetables and various animals on it—one of which looked like it was a badger, and another carving looked like a hedgehog, and one was a fish.

He led her down the Long Gallery, and she stopped suddenly to look at some of the portraits. He grunted, as she pulled back on him, and stood impatiently by her side while she studied the portrait of one his ancestors that hailed from the time of William and Mary.

He was a handsome devil. She supposed that all of the men in the Deville line were blessed with such looks. Instead of having Clarence’s dark wavy hair, this man had reddish brown hair and he looked as if he had a paler complexion than Clarence.

The eyes—the eyes were familiar. They were shaped like Clarence’s, and looked to be the same colour.

“One day our portraits will hang here,” Clarence mused.

“Perhaps,” she said. “Or, they could hang somewhere else in the house. I wouldn’t want to think of my portrait being on such a grand display.” She still didn’t feel like a Deville. She knew she was—but she supposed she hadn’t been Clarence’s wife long enough. Perhaps the passing of time would grant her a different perspective.

“You have plenty of time to study the rest of my ancient ancestors,” he whispered against her ear. She thrilled at his hot breath caressing her ear. Her headache had disappeared, and by the hungry look in Clarence’s eyes, he had thought of another way to occupy their time. She wanted a tour throughout the house, but by the way his eyes were dancing, she didn’t think he would give her the time, and as she dwelled upon it, his idea sounded like too much fun to miss.

“You are incorrigible, Clarence.”

“So I have been told, many, many times,” he said. “If you’re not quite up for the sort of fun I have in mind, we could always go and ring for something to eat.”