Regency Wagers (24 page)

‘Well,’ said the gentleman agreeably. ‘Let me make our introductions.’ He gestured to the ethereal creature at his elbow. ‘This is Miss Reynolds, and I am Captain Ramsford, a friend of Lord Devlin’s.’

‘Mama, I want Deddy!’ whimpered Linette.

Ramsford’s eyebrows shot up, and Miss Reynold’s mouth fell open.

Blushing, Madeleine hurried to the door. ‘I will see if Lord Devlin is at home.’

She rushed inside with Linette, caring not if they thought it rude to be kept waiting on the doorstep like tradesmen. Linette curled up on the stairs, still looking frightened. Madeleine called for Devlin, but there was no answer.

Before she stepped back outside she heard Lord Ramsford and Miss Reynolds through the crack in the door.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ Miss Reynolds cried.

‘Compose yourself. You will see Devlin by and by.’ He added in a mocking tone, ‘In the meantime, you may depend on me.’

Noting Miss Reynolds used Devlin’s given name, Madeleine stepped back outside. ‘Lord Devlin is not at home.’

Ramsford peered at her quizzically. ‘A pity.’ He turned to Miss Reynolds. ‘We have come on a fool’s errand, as I predicted. Now, perhaps you will allow me to convey you home.’

Miss Reynolds gave him a scathing glance. Her forehead wrinkled, and she spoke to Madeleine. ‘Who was that man who accosted you?’

Madeleine blinked. ‘No one you should know, my lady.’

‘Are you all right, Miss…?’ Miss Reynolds lifted her eyebrows, obviously wanting Madeleine to reveal her name.

Madeleine lowered her eyes. ‘I shall require no further as
sistance.’ She ignored the other request. ‘If you will forgive me, I must see to my daughter.’

Without a glance back, Madeleine rushed through the doorway, bolted the door, and went directly to Linette. ‘Come, darling,’ she said soothingly. ‘The bad man will not scare us again.’

The afternoon crept by, spent soothing Linette, entertaining her and attempting to still her own agitation from the afternoon events. Madeleine longed for Devlin to return home. She had decided to warn him only about her father’s trickery and Farley’s threat. If he did not wish her to know of the Diamond, she would pretend ignorance. In any event, her future would be unchanged.

As time wore on, Madeleine grew more uneasy. When she peeked out the front windows, there always seemed to be some man loitering near the lamppost across the street. Not Farley, but familiar figures. His lackeys. He was having her watched.

Each minute Devlin did not return caused her increased agitation. She pictured him bleeding in some alleyway, a knife thrust into his back. And if that image were not disturbing enough, she envisioned him in the arms of the beautiful Diamond.

She jumped at a sharp knock on the door. With a pounding heart, she peered out the window. It was not Farley, nor one of his men, but a footman dressed in Heronvale livery. She opened the door. The footman handed her a note and left.

The note was addressed to her. With trembling fingers, she broke the seal and read:
My dearest Maddy. I am called away on urgent business. Everything will be settled upon my return. I will be gone only one night and will be home for dinner tomorrow. Explain to Bart. Kiss Linette for me. Yours, etc., D.S.

She folded the paper again, her heart pounding in her chest. What urgent business was this? Did it involve the Diamond,
perhaps? Well, at least Farley could not make good his threat. Devlin would not be killed in some alleyway this night.

Madeleine sat down again with her sewing, trying to calm herself. Linette played close by at her feet. Through the crack in the curtains, she watched two men conversing. They scrutinised the house. How long before they determined she and Linette were alone?

She pricked her finger with the needle and put her finger to her mouth to stop the bleeding.

She’d be damned if she would sit here and wait for Farley to come after her. Even if Farley captured her, he would still make good on his threats to Devlin and Linette. She knew Farley too well. Nothing would save the two people she loved as long as that man breathed life.

Madeleine’s pricked finger remained poised in the air. Was that something she could do? She set her sewing on the side table and absorbed herself in thought. She could sneak back to Farley’s establishment and wait for him. Surprise would be on her side. She could wait until he slept. Then she could kill him.

Almost without effort, the plan formed itself in her head. First, she would take Linette to the Marquess and Marchioness. They wanted to adopt her and would be very pleased to have her. Linette would receive every advantage under their care, and, if things went wrong, Farley would not dare to touch a child under the Marquess’s protection.

But would Devlin be safe? The only way to be sure was to kill Farley. Devlin could then marry Miss Reynolds with no impediment. And have a happy life.

If she were caught, she would be hanged. If she escaped, she must disappear forever. If she failed…well, she must not fail.

Rushing over to the desk, she composed a farewell letter to Devlin. She had to write it several times before sealing the final effort. The bleakness of the task made her hand tremble.
How to tell him to forget her? How to tell him how much she loved him? How to explain this was the only thing to be done?

At dusk, Madeleine, donned yet another costume. With her newly acquired sewing skills, she altered some old clothes of Devlin’s, stitching the trousers so that they fit her slim hips and came over her walking boots. She found an old cap of Bart’s to cover her hair, and a caped coat. Shortened and its cuffs removed, the coat was large enough to hide Linette beneath and Devlin’s sabre behind. Farley’s lackeys would be watching the back door as well as the front, but the house shared an area with other residences, so a boy walking out the back would not arouse suspicion. She took the risk of leaving candles burning in the house to look as if they were at home.

She enlisted Linette’s cooperation by promising her a visit to the Marquess, who would let her see his horses. She also promised that Linette would see Devlin soon, and that she would have a supreme adventure, but first she must be quiet and still, so the bad man would not discover them.

Linette played her role beautifully, as did Madeleine. A boy in a big coat sauntered down the street to no one’s notice.

It was dark when Madeleine reached the Marquess’s town house. She had no idea how to discover the servants’ entrance, so she strode up to the front door. The huge brass knocker was removed. There was nothing to do but rap on the door with her knuckles.

The Heronvale butler opened the door and looked disapprovingly at her.

‘Be gone, ruffian,’ he ordered through a crack in the door.

‘Please, sir, wait. It is Miss England. Do you remember me? I must see the Marquess. It will only take a moment.’

The elderly man’s eyes grew huge as he gaped at her. ‘The Marquess and Marchioness are not at home.’

The strap that she had devised to hold Linette dug into her
neck, but she dared not reveal the child’s presence. ‘May I wait for them, please?’

The man regarded her with a concerned look. ‘His lordship and ladyship intend to spend an indefinite time at Heronvale.’

Heronvale?

Madeleine walked down the long steps to the street. This spoiled her plans to be rid of Farley and herself before Devlin returned. She must travel to Heronvale first.

She found her way to the Marquess’s stable, where once she had come with Devlin for an early morning ride. She crept inside when the stable boy was not looking. It was not difficult to find a secluded corner in which to hide, nor to convince Linette to be very quiet so they could sleep next to the horses.

When the first rays of light shone through the stable windows, Madeleine rose and searched for the saddles. She was tightening the cinch when the stable door opened and the head groom walked in.

‘See here!’ he shouted, rushing over to her and grabbing her around the waist.

‘Mama! Mama!’ Linette shouted as she flung her arms around Madeleine’s legs.

‘What the devil…?’ the groom exclaimed.

Madeleine recognised him as the man who had been with Devlin the night she had run away from the Marquess’s town house.

‘The Marchioness gave me permission. Do you recall me, sir? I am Lord Devlin’s…friend.’

‘Does he know you are here?’ the man asked.

‘No, Lord Devlin is away. That is why I must go to the Marquess. Lord Devlin told me I should.’ Madeleine struggled for an explanation that would win his cooperation.

‘Mama?’ Linette gripped the cloth of Madeleine’s trousers.

The groom straightened. ‘Who is this?’

‘My daughter.’

He regarded her, a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘Why are you dressed like that?’

Madeleine thought wildly. ‘I feared riding all that distance to Heronvale. It would not be safe as a woman. Please, let me borrow the horse. I promise to return it.’

He rubbed his chin. ‘I do not think his lordship would like it if I let you ride off to Heronvale.’

‘But you must!’

Already she was terribly delayed. It would have been so much better to have Linette safe and the deed accomplished by now. She needed to do this before Devlin returned. Before he stopped her.

The groom put his hands on his hips. ‘I’ll take you in the curricle. It will be faster and I think Lord Devlin would charge me to keep you safe.’

Madeleine thought she might kiss the man, so grateful was she. ‘Thank you, sir.’

Farley fumed as his carriage sped along. The chit had hoodwinked him. It was late before his men realised that she had been alone in the house and, by the time he had given the order to break in, she and her child were gone.

It took more time to discover that Steele had hotfooted it to his brother’s estate. Farley wagered that, somehow, Madeleine was headed there, as well. Farley and his men would reach the outskirts of Heronvale at dawn. He would send his men ahead to discover if she’d arrived there. If not, he would lie in wait for her.

She would not foil him again.

D
evlin woke in his old room at Heronvale. For a moment he thought he was an invalid again and the past months merely one of his fevered dreams. A disquieting sense of unease lingered. It had nothing to do with the heated words he and his brother had exchanged. No, something more elusive.

He had confessed the whole to his brother, which had gone rather better than he could have expected, but they did not agree on the solution. Ned was in accord with Devlin about the impropriety of marriage to Emily Duprey, but did not agree that Devlin must marry Madeleine.

Ned’s reasoning was sound, Devlin supposed. Ned had argued that Madeleine and the child deserved a peaceful life after all they had endured. As the wife of a Steele, she would be scrutinised. Would not some eager gossipmonger expose her past?

Who in society would trouble themselves with his business if he reactivated his commission in the army? Devlin had countered. Ned nearly turned apoplectic at that suggestion.

Devlin sat up in bed, stretching his limbs and trying to let the new day give perspective on the past one. In any event, Ned could not stop him from rejoining the army. Ned had, after all, given him the bank draft for Madeleine. It provided enough
money to repurchase his commission. But how the deuce was he to silence Duprey?

At least Ned cared not a fig for the dust that would be kicked up if Duprey made good his threat, though Ned did not relish becoming the latest
on-dit
for the
ton
. Serena might suffer from it, he had said. Devlin had been surprised by the softness in his brother’s expression when he spoke Serena’s name. Come to think of it, Ned and Serena seemed unusually at ease with each other.

Devlin shrugged. Whatever the reason, he was glad of it.

He dressed quickly and headed for the stables. A hard ride would clear his mind and rid him of this sense of foreboding.

As he set the horse into a trot, he thought of Madeleine. What a race they could have if she were to ride the estate with him. They could explore all his childhood haunts, the special places he treasured from those simpler days.

The fields stretched ahead of him, some thick with crops, some fallow. He knew every inch of this land. Urging his horse into a gallop, he sped over them, jumping hedges, clearing fences, and letting the exhilaration replace all other thought.

Farley settled himself in the windowseat of the village’s posting house. The ale was tolerable and the breakfast generous. More important, any traveller to Heronvale would by necessity pass directly in front of the window. His horse was kept ready, and he could depend on his own eyes if his lackeys failed to warn him if she came into view.

He regarded the innkeeper’s daughter with an appraising eye. She was comely enough, but too common for his tastes. He wondered how many men had their first tumble with a tavern wench. It would make a fetching costume for Madeleine to wear. He could just see the simple dress dipping low, revealing her full breasts as she bent to pour a drink. Farley took a deep swig of his ale. He’d be damned if he’d share her this time.

This time she would be all his, to do with as he wished.

Devlin’s ride was ill fated, a bad omen to be sure. After his horse threw a shoe, he led her home on foot, taking up precious time he needed to conclude matters with his brother. The sun was high in the sky when he delivered the horse to the head groom.

‘What’s amiss, m’lord?’ the old retainer asked, having spied him walking with the horse.

‘Threw a shoe,’ Devlin replied, handing over the reins.

As the man examined the hoof, Devlin made the mistake of mentioning Jem to him. This launched the proud father into a long discourse about his son and how the Marquess was right to value Jem so highly, him being very much like his father. Devlin attended to the conversation with disguised impatience. He had not eaten a bite that day and had much to do before he could return to Madeleine.

‘And I was saying to your man yesterday, how I wish the young’uns could live here in the country where the air is not carrying some disease or another, but Jem would not hear of it, nor that wife of his…’

‘Saying to my man?’

‘Yes, m’lord. Mr Bart. And what a poor little thing that new wife of his is, so sick and all, but she’ll be well enough staying with Nurse. Nurse still knows just what should be done, though I’d wager she is five and seventy, if she is a day.’

Devlin grabbed the groom’s arm. ‘They are here?’

The old man gave him a puzzled look. ‘They arrived soon after you.’

Not waiting a moment for the groom. Devlin threw a saddle on one of the other mounts and raced for Nurse’s cottage.

She was in her front yard, leaning on her stick, a basket over her arm. She dropped the basket and threw a hand across her chest when he thundered toward her.

‘Goodness! Master Devlin, I declare. ’Tis so good to see you. I’m about to make a nice posset for that dear little one.’

‘Where are they?’ He swung his leg over to dismount before the horse had quite stopped.

‘I have the dear girl all right and tight, Master Devlin, never you fear, but you must take a care you don’t break your neck. I’ve told you many a time—’

He ran inside with her limping behind him.

Devlin found Bart seated by the bedside where a pale Sophie lay. Bart’s face was pinched with worry.

‘My God, what happened?’

Bart glanced up in surprise. ‘Dev!’

Nurse poked Devlin on the shoulder with her bony finger. ‘You’ll not go racketing in this house, m’lord, and waking the girl. She needs her rest. If you want to be talking, get into the other room and keep your voices down.’

Devlin did as he was told, Bart rising to go with him. They went into the main room in the cottage.

‘Is Madeleine with you?’ Devlin asked anxiously.

‘No, but she thought… What are you doing here?’

‘Never mind that now. What of Sophie?’

Bart rubbed his face and flopped into a chair. ‘She could hardly breathe. The doctor said the only hope was country air. Dev, I would not have come had I known you would be absent.’

‘Now, no fussing,’ said Nurse, walking in. ‘I told you she’d be right and tight. Sleeping like a baby, she is.’ She limped over to the fire and busied herself with the posset.

Devlin placed his hand on Bart’s shoulder. ‘You were right to bring Sophie here. I promise you Nurse will know just what to do for her. I trust Madeleine and Linette have done very well, so do not worry on that side. I had sent word to her that I would be away, but to be prudent I will return to London immediately.’

‘We should not have left her,’ Bart said.

‘Nonsense,’ countered Devlin. ‘It was my error, leaving as I did with only a note. I must not tarry.’

As he galloped back to the house, that sense of dread returned. Madeleine was alone and she knew no one who could
help her if anything went amiss. He must reach her without delay. Devlin ordered a fresh mount, and hurried to inform his brother.

Madeleine pretended to be calm as she sat beside the chattering Linette, who was in transports over riding behind two horses and spying so many more along the way. Jem patiently answered Linette’s endless questions about the beasts, at the same time asking no questions of Madeleine. She was grateful to him for that.

They passed through a small village. ‘Not long now,’ he said.

Not long before she would hug Linette for the last time; kiss her little cheek for the last time. Madeleine might have managed it well enough if she could have handed Linette over to the Marquess in London, before she’d had all these hours to contemplate never seeing her little girl again. With each mile her soul ebbed away, bit by painful bit.

After this wrenching deed was accomplished, the rest of it would seem easy. She would travel back to London, to the gaming hell where she would find Farley. She feared killing him, but only because she might be wicked enough to enjoy it. It should be a comfort to know that Devlin would have the life he deserved, with a beautiful wife who could be a credit to him instead of a mistress who placed his life in danger.

It was no comfort, however. Losing him would hurt as much as losing Linette.

Horses’ hooves pounded behind them, and Jem steered the curricle to the side to give the riders room to pass. One rider came aside the curricle’s team and grabbed the harness while others surrounded the vehicle, their horses whinnying and breathing hard.

‘Get her!’ someone shouted.

Madeleine immediately clutched Linette, holding the child tight while men grabbed at them both. The curricle came to an abrupt stop, Jem was on his feet, snapping at the men with his whip. Madeleine crouched on the seat, the shouts of the men
harsh in her ears and the smell of horse sweat filling her nostrils. Jem’s whip snapped and cracked above her head. A shot rang out, and Jem tumbled from the curricle.

Madeleine forced herself not to think of him. She tucked Linette beneath her feet and unsheathed Devlin’s sabre, slashing it at her attackers as Devlin had demonstrated. She drove them back again. Through the din she could hear Jem moaning.

‘Damn you, I said get the chit.’ That was Farley’s voice. He had come for her and to make good his threat toward Linette.

‘Mama,’ Linette cried, cowering at her feet.

‘Cowards!’ shouted Farley. ‘Seize her now.’

The sabre sliced at the arm of one of the attackers. He fell back, cursing, blood spurting from his arm. Madeleine swung at another, but another man climbed on the curricle and grabbed her from behind. He squeezed her wrist until the sword clattered to the ground. Madeleine struggled against him. Farley rode near and plucked Linette from the vehicle.

‘No!’ Madeleine screamed.

She clawed at her captor’s eyes and kicked him in the groin with all her might. With a cry of pain, he pushed her away. She lost her footing and fell hard on to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. With her cheek flat against the ground, she saw Jem writhing in pain, white-faced, blood staining his shoulder. The horses’ stamping hooves sounded perilously close, the animals as panicked as she. The dirt they kicked up rained down on her. The horses bolted, sending Farley’s man sprawling off the back in the wake of the curricle clattering down the road.

‘Mama! Mama!’ Linette’s screams rose above the din.

Madeleine forced herself to rise. She groped for the sabre.

Farley dismounted, holding Linette as if she were a parcel of old rags. His men, one mounted, one not, circled around their comrades. The two on the ground were helped to their feet.

Ignoring that she was outnumbered, Madeleine took advantage of the distraction. She strode toward Farley, sabre in hand.

‘Release my child.’

Farley laughed, the evil sound stilling Linette’s cries. Gazing smugly at Madeleine, he held Linette in front of him, protecting his chest with her little body. ‘Still wish to thrust your sword into me, my dear?’

‘Let her go.’ Her demand was useless, she knew. Two of his lackeys closed in on her again. She turned, slashing the sabre at them. Out of the corner of her eye a third man aimed a pistol at her.

‘Do not damage her!’ Farley ordered. ‘Surround her. There are four of you and one of her.’

The men did as they were told. Madeleine spun around, turning to each of them as they jeered at her.

‘Drop the sword, my dear,’ Farley said, his voice sickly smooth. ‘You and your child are mine now.’

Madeleine closed her eyes. Her heart despaired.

She heard a galloping horse and cries of surprise from Farley’s men. Her eyes flew open, and she saw the horseman.

Devlin.

He had no weapon save savage cries and murder in his eyes. He charged straight toward the men surrounding Madeleine, grabbing one of them as the man attempted to run. Devlin lifted him by the collar of his coat and tossed him down again. Madeleine raised the sabre, and Devlin grabbed it out of her hand. He became someone she had not imagined before, a demon on horseback, who easily scattered Farley’s men. One reached a horse, mounted and beat a hasty retreat. The others ran for the woods.

With only a glance toward Madeleine, Devlin dismounted and approached Farley, sabre menacing. ‘Unhand the child, Farley.’

Farley took a step back. Before Devlin could reach him, Farley drew a silver-bladed knife from his belt and held it against Linette’s tiny throat. Its blade flashed in the afternoon sun.

‘I would drop the sword if I were you, Steele.’ Farley’s upper lip curled.

Devlin lowered his sword very slightly.

‘I mean it,’ growled Farley. He pressed the blade against the child’s neck, drawing a trickle of blood. She shrieked.

‘No,’ pleaded Madeleine.

Devlin watched the blood drip over Farley’s fingers to stain the front of Linette’s dress. The child, her face chalky white, was rigid, terror bulging her eyes. His vision blurred, and, distinctly as if it were happening to him again, he felt each stab of the French cuirassier.

He shook his head clear, ignoring his old demons and the panic that accompanied them. ‘Let the child go, Farley.’ Devlin’s voice was steady.

‘I’ll give you the brat.’ Farley sneered. ‘But I keep the mother.’

‘No deals,’ said Devlin, advancing.

‘She’s mine.’ Farley’s voice went up a pitch and he placed the point of the knife below Linette’s chin. ‘You stole her from me and now I want her back.’

Devlin halted. There was no way to disarm Farley or strike him before he cut deep into Linette’s throat.

Panic rose again and again he pushed it away. Battle was much like a game, he reminded himself, a series of points and counterpoints. As in the card came they’d played not more than three months ago, Devlin must wait until Farley made a mistake.

‘I did not steal her.’ Devlin kept his voice deceptively calm. ‘You offered her, remember? You lost at your own game.’

‘Your play was dishonest!’ Farley waved the knife.

‘It was not, as you well know. You gambled and lost,’ he continued reasonably.

‘Now you lose!’ Farley gave a mirthless laugh. He swung the knife dramatically back to Linette’s throat. Devlin’s grip hardened on the hilt of the sword.