Regency Romance: The Rake's Fake Marriage (Historical Arranged Marriage Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance) (2 page)

''The deal was, he would pay us
upfront,
and he didn't.''

Adele had a sudden rush of bravery. ''Quite preposterous, coming in here, asking me to pay for something my husband allegedly asked you to do. I will not pay. The police would be very interested in your story.''

Kellet's eyes narrowed and his expression sinister. He leaned even further forward on his chair and grasped Adele's knee. When he looked at her, he saw fear, genuine fear and he loved it. ''You will
pay,
and the person will
be killed
. If you do not, I will let it
be known
in
society
that your husband was a murderer. What will that do to your reputation?'' He let go of
her,
and she instantly began to rub the place where his hands had gripped her.

''But I don't want to be responsible for.....''

''Shut up you stupid woman,'' he lost his temper. ''You have two weeks to pay or face the consequences.''

Adele began to weep. ''How much is it?'' She just wanted him to go.

''Thirty thousand pounds.''

''But I don't have that much. I could never pay you.....''

She saw his eyes shift around the room, looking at all the valuable porcelain. ''Ah, but you're wrong aren't you? You can
pay,
you just need to....'' he searched for the words. ''Liquidize your assets. This house, your land, your possessions, I'm sure they are worth enough to cover it.''

Adele didn't know how much everything was worth, but she did know she didn't have that kind of money in cash, not even a third of it. Kellet stood up and looked at her. She seemed to have shrunk since his arrival in her house. She'd sat upright and attentively, now she
was hunched
in the chair, her head hanging, and her hands white as they clasped each other.

******

Bartholomew Pimms looked like his name, brash. Tall, well over six feet, he was twenty-nine and already at the top of his profession. Dressed in a bright red coat with a yellow waistcoat, he was barrel-chested, much like many of the criminals he defended. Adele imagined him in his wig, playing to the jury in a courtroom. Making events sound more dramatic than they
actually
were. 

''Elanor told me you wanted to talk to me,'' he said, as he sat in the same seat Kellet had, just a few hours earlier.

Adele didn't like him, but she knew of nobody else better placed to advise her. She hated having to reveal this to him. She knew how he would react when she told him. He would
gloat,
he'd always told her, her husband was a good for nothing. You should have married me, was another statement she expected him to use. ''I have a problem of the gravest nature.''

Bartholomew leaned back.
Very little
appeared grave to him anymore. He knew all the country's worst criminals, and he'd seen most of
life's
gruesome
twists. ''Tell me.''

''There was a man here, this afternoon.
A terrifying
man.''
She fought more tears.
The ringlets in her hair bobbing up and down as she shook her head in disbelief. ''He asked me to pay him thirty thousand pounds.''

''For what,'' he said in his courtroom voice, his hand flicking across his large hooked nose. Something he did when he didn't believe what he was
being told
.

''Listen,
Bartholomew,
please don't let this get out.'' He nodded. ''The man said that Peter had asked him to kill someone and that he hadn't paid him for doing so.''

Bartholomew raised his eyebrows.
This was
graver than he had expected. ''For murdering who, exactly?''

''He didn't tell me.''

''Did he carry out Peter's request?''

''I asked him that too. He said no. He
told me
Peter had promised to pay him in advance.''

''Why didn't you tell him to call off the
deed
and go away.''

''I did, sort of. But he threatened me. He's going to reveal the details to society if I don't pay.''

''Scoundrel. You should have married me, Adele. When you had the chance. Why didn't you?''

She wanted to tell him the reason. The real reason. Because I think you are conceited, pompous and ugly. But she needed him to help her. ''It's a long time ago.''

''But I loved you. You turned me down in a brutal, frank, manner.''

''Bartholomew, please. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But we can't go back. What good is it dragging up the past?''

He nodded. ''But I told you Peter was a good for nothing.''

''What do you propose I do?'' she said, trying to drive him in another direction.

''Tell the police,'' he said,
simply
. Was that all he could come up with, she thought? A barrister, in the most important court in the land, and all he could tell her was something a child could have come
up with
.

''But it will become common knowledge if I do that.''

''Yes, most likely it will.''

He wasn't helping at all. ''Then I will pay him. I don't want Peter's good name to
be dragged
through the mud, and I certainly don't
want
to be cast from society, I have nothing else.''

''Those are your choices. Either tell the police or pay him. But if you pay him you will become an accessory to murder.'' Adele hadn't thought of that. So I face prison for murder, or being cast out of society into a life of shame, she concluded, and there was nothing Bartholomew Pimms could do to help her.

*****

Nicholas Geraghty lay in bed and glanced at Georgina. She was his most beautiful conquest of the year so far, and there had been many. He stroked her naked back as
she
lay face down. She was still fast asleep. Nicholas was a demanding
lover,
and he'd totally exhausted her. She groaned as his hand slid down her back, onto her buttocks. Just as his hand was about to slip somewhere indelicate, there was a loud knock at the door. He jumped out of bed and covered himself in a dressing gown. He opened the door
slightly;
it was the
butler
, Manningham.

''Sir, Earl Geraghty has asked me to tell you he expects you in his study in ten minutes.'' Manningham knew Nicholas had a woman in his bedroom. He usually threw the door wide open when he knocked, but opening it just slightly was a sign that he was hiding someone.

''Oh, how tiresome. What does he want?'' Nicholas swept his hand through his unkempt hair.

''I'm afraid he didn't tell me what he wants to talk to you about sir.''

He returned to bed and pulled the covers off Georgina, who felt a sudden rush of cold air and woke up. She rolled over, revealing herself to him.
He was sorely tempted by her
, but his father was
fierce
sometimes, and he wanted to avoid confrontation.

''Get dressed, you have to leave,'' he said.

She looked insulted. She'd expected to be invited for breakfast, perhaps to meet his parents, and spend a lazy day, walking the gardens and getting to know him better. If she had known him better, she would have realized that he did this with every woman obliging enough to share his bed. He had sex with them and kicked them out of the house without further ado.

After he's seen her down the rear staircase, he washed and dressed. He walked down the long landing and took the grand staircase to the entrance hall where his father's dogs were lying. One of them got up and walked with him to his father's study. His father was a fair man, long suffering. He knew his son had a heart of gold, but he was angry with him on this particular morning,
very angry
.

Nicholas stood in front of his father's desk, his
father
seated behind it. He stood like a boy summoned to the headmaster's room after some
terrible
misdemeanor.

''Georgina Fletcher,'' his father said. ''Where is she?''

''I have no idea,'' Nicholas replied. Technically he didn't know where she was, exactly. But he did know her whereabouts, in a carriage he had provided, on her way home.

''Don't give me that. You know darn well where she is. She's in your bedroom.''

''No father, she is not.'' He tried not to grin.

''Well, she was a few moments ago.''

Should I deny it, Nicholas thought. It had never worked before. ''Yes, she spent the night with me.''

He had never seen his father so angry before. ''Do you know who she is?'' he snarled. His gray hair flopped over his forehead as he looked down at his clenched fists.

''Er.......not
exactly......
she
's.''

''She's the daughter of Lord Fletcher of Banbury.''

The name meant nothing to Nicholas. “Who's that?''

''Who's that?'' his father mocked. ''He's in charge of the police. The most powerful man in the
bloody
country.'' He didn't often
swear
. ''And you had to bed his daughter,'' Nicholas noted his father's white knuckles. ''Do you know how awkward this is?''

Nicholas shook his head. In reality, he didn't care. He'd had his fun with Georgina. She'd been good in bed, remarkably
good
. One of the
best ever
.

''You use women. You think they are here to serve your seemingly insatiable sexual appetite,'' his father said. Nicholas wanted to nod because that's
exactly
what he though the role of women was in society. He'd once shocked a friend by telling him that the only place he wanted to see women was in his bed with their legs open. ''Her father has demanded an apology. Her mother was out of her mind with worry when she didn't come home with the others. You will travel to Lord Fletcher's office, go down on your knees and beg his forgiveness. Do you understand?''

Nicholas nodded reluctantly and turned away to leave the room. ''I haven't finished with you yet,'' his father shouted. ''This
really
is the limit. I want you to marry, and stop this ridiculous behavior. So here is what I propose: you will find
a wife
within the next six months, or I will disinherit you, and  your younger brother will inherit everything.''

''But......'' he realized it was no use, his father was already waving his hand for him to leave the room.

*****

The annual hunt ball was a grand affair. Peter had been a great enthusiast of the sport, and he and Adele had attended each year. The President of the Banbury Fox Hounds had invited Adele this year as well, in Peter's memory. She hadn't wanted to go, she was happy at
home,
but she'd felt obliged. She knew a lot of the members and didn't' want to appear ungrateful for all their support after Peter had died. Held in the ballroom at Greenfield Castle close to Banbury, it
was attended
by over three hundred people, including Nicholas.

When his carriage dropped him off at the Castle, he was in the company of David Henderson. They had been to Eton together, and apart from when Nicholas was pestering women, they were inseparable. Nicholas cast his blue eyes around the ballroom, looking for more prey. David noticed and recognized that look.

''I thought your father had told you not to,'' David said inquisitively.

Nicholas stroked his chin and pursed his lips.
''He did, but it's so tempting.
Look at all these angels, just look at them,'' his hand made a sweeping gesture as if he was spreading seed in a field. ''It's more than any man can bear.''

''Stop your philandering and find a wife, it's serious. Do you want to be disinherited?''

''No, of course not. But I don't want to marry either. Outside the bedroom, women are
insufferable,
and I'll only marry when I
really
need an heir, not before.''

''Then you will be poor,'' David said in a matter of fact way.

He's right, Nicholas thought. I have no choice. Contemplating the end of his carefree days was more than he could bear. He cursed his father and followed David to the bar where they downed two glasses of champagne rapidly. 

''I'm Nicholas Gerathy,'' he said putting out his hand to the woman next to him.

''Adele Vaughan,'' she replied. He looked at her. Even more beautiful than Georgina, he decided. He liked
delicate
women with a large bust. He
peered  into
her blue eyes and saw pain.

''Are you alright?'' he asked.

He was handsome she thought, dark hair and
a strong
face with green eyes and a white smile, he looked healthy and fun to
be with
. But she'd seen men like him before. He was a womanizer, of that there was no doubt. ''What business is it of yours?'' It was harsh, but her life was in turmoil, and the last thing she wanted was an evening with such a man.