To Tempt A Rogue (27 page)

Harriet lifted her chin. “If that were true, you would be encouraging me to stay, for it would weaken Lord Avery's position and strengthen your own.”

Lord Bridwell sighed. “Whatever you may believe, I am not a cruel man. Though you claim otherwise, I am certain my nephew lied to you. You are an innocent victim in all of this and I would not want you to be further tainted by the scandal to come.”

Harriet swallowed hard. “I do not believe you.” Lord Bridwell leaned towards her. “Believe that I will use whatever means necessary to win and that will include dragging what is left of your good name through the mud. I suppose my nephew might be forced to marry you, in an attempt to add an air of respectability to your relationship. Though I believe any magistrate with a lick of sense would see through that ploy. If you have any shred of self-respect, Miss Sainthill, you will gather your belongings and make arrangements to be on the next coach out of the city.”

Harriet trembled with anger and humiliation. The brutal frankness of Lord Bridwell's words hit her hard. She had no defense to his arguments. He was as ruthless and formidable as Nathaniel had told her.

“Yes, I think you are right,” Harriet whispered. “I need to see about packing. Immediately.”

Dignity and strength had always been two of her greatest assets. Harriet now called upon every ounce of that character as she rose from her seat. Without saying another word, she quit the room and marched resolutely up the stairs.

Nathaniel found his uncle in the drawing room, looking smug and satisfied. When he entered the room, Lord Bridwell fixed a disdainful eye on him and Nathaniel returned the glare. He was tired of allowing this man to dictate the particulars of his life. He could hold power over him only if Nathaniel permitted it.

The worry over the fate of the children was Nathaniel's greatest weakness and Lord Bridwell had ruthlessly tried to exploit it. No longer.

Nathaniel knew precisely what he wanted and he had every intention of gaining it. He planted his feet wide and drew himself up to his full height. “I was told Miss Sainthill was in here, but I see you are alone. Has she gone for a walk in the gardens?”

Lord Bridwell raised his eyebrows. It was a forbidding gesture that Nathaniel ignored. “She has gone upstairs to pack her belongings. It took very little effort for me to convince her to leave. I originally thought she held some affection for you, but clearly my impression was mistaken.”

The words were chosen carefully with the intention of wounding. Nathaniel's throat constricted. The thought of Harriet leaving brought on a black wave of despair that threatened to overpower him, but Nathaniel would not be drawn away from the true issue. The fate of the children was to be decided here and now and he was not going to be denied his victory.

“Miss Sainthill is my concern, not yours.” Nathaniel scanned his uncle's harsh features, seeking some trace of familial sentiment or regard. There was none. “I have given this a great deal of thought. The Highlands are a beautiful place, desolate, harsh, and perfect for reflection.” He forced his voice to sound calm, almost bored. “I had considered negotiating with you for custody of the children, essentially buying you off. But I eventually rejected the idea. After all, you might agree to a sum today and decide in a year you wanted more.”

Lord Bridwell's expression tightened at the veiled insult, but he made no comment.

Nathaniel continued, “I have many legal options, and a few illegal ones, and I will not cease until I have untangled this mess in my favor. You are an old man sir, and I am a much younger one. My stamina, resources, and dedication are far superior to your own and have grown stronger these past few weeks.”

“You are not invincible, nephew. The fact that I so easily located you should be an indication to you of
my
resolve in this matter.”

“You found me purely by chance and I can state with certainty that you will never have a second one. Miss Sainthill told you the letter was never meant for your eyes. She acted out of kindness and consideration for the children, two ideals which I am certain you would fail to comprehend. I can find no fault with her behavior.”

“You are a highly tolerant employer.” Lord Bridwell's lips turned up into a sneer. “She must be an exceptional
governess.”

Nathaniel felt the fury gathering in his chest. He would endure much from his uncle in order to gain custody of the children, but he could not allow Harriet's honor to be impugned. “There is a Bow Street Runner nursing a sore jaw who had the audacity to approach Miss Sainthill at a posting inn. If you utter one more distasteful remark I will have no difficulty giving you a pair of dark-ringed eyes to match the bruises on the runner's face.”

“Threatening me?”

“Hardly. I am merely warning you of the consequences.” Nathaniel looked his uncle straight in the eye. “The children belong with me and I will fight you through every court in the land if necessary. I will win. No matter how long it takes or how much money it costs.”

Lord Bridwell squirmed slightly in his chair, as if the reality of the situation was just beginning to dawn upon his mind. “You are too hasty with your accusations and your readiness to battle. There is no need for a lot of barristers to get rich over a family disagreement. If we put our minds to it, as civilized men, we should be able to reach an acceptable agreement.”

“You are not a civilized man. I am, however, a reasonable one.” Nathaniel felt the muscle in his jaw twitch with excitement. Was it possible that he had finally managed to convince his uncle to relent? “My solicitor will draw up the appropriate papers and you will sign them. In recognition of your cooperation you will be awarded modest financial compensation.”

“The dukedom is worth a fortune! I'll not be bought off by a mere pittance.”

“The amount will be fair. But also non-negotiable.”

Nathaniel held his breath as he waited for a response. He had never sat across the gaming tables from his uncle and knew not if he was the type of man willing to wager on the possibility of winning in the distant future or taking the sure thing of the moment. Lord Avery believed he had proven that he would not quietly relinquish his claim. Was it enough to convince the older man to cry off?

Had he underestimated how far his adversary was willing to take this matter? Should he have offered more money, more incentives?

The questions swirled in his brain, but outwardly Nathaniel showed no signs of his inner qualms. Yet his concentration was soon broken by the sound of a loud thump, followed by a shout. It came from an upper floor in the mansion and sounded as if someone was in the middle of an argument.

Lord Avery tried to ignore the noise, but it grew too loud. Worried that one, two, or all three of the children might be involved, Nathaniel had to investigate. Sparing a quick glance at his stone-faced uncle, he quit the drawing room and ascended to the second floor.

He followed the sounds down a short hallway and discovered a servant standing in the open doorway of one of the bedchambers. The shrieks were coming from inside the room. Recognizing the voice, Nathaniel frowned and charged forward.

Upon seeing him, the servant's eyes lit with relief. “Oh sir, please, you must aid me,” he cried anxiously. “I am Lord Bridwell's valet and this is his bedchamber. Not ten minutes ago a woman came barreling into the room and began grabbing his lordship's clothing. I tried to stop her, but she screeched like a Bedlamite and then threw his lordship's new coat at me!”

It was then that Nathaniel noticed the man clutched in his hand a coat of blue superfine, guarding the item like a sentry.

“I am acquainted with the lady,” Nathaniel told the fidgeting valet. “Perhaps she will tell me what is wrong.”

The servant let out an exaggerated sigh and backed away from the doorway. Curious, Nathaniel peered inside the room and discovered Harriet rummaging through the wardrobe. He watched her yank out a pile of clean shirts, stalk across the room and shove them haphazardly into the open portmanteau that was set in the middle of the bed.

“Harriet, what are you doing?”

She glanced up at him briefly, her face taut with suppressed rage. “Your uncle is a horse's arse.”

“You'll hear no argument from me on that point.”

“First he tried to bribe me, then he insulted me, and finally he tried to frighten me.” She dumped a smart pair of riding boots unceremoniously onto the carpet and returned to the wardrobe for a second pair of footwear.

“So you decided to attack his clothing in retaliation?”

Harriet's gaze clouded over. “No, I am merely following his orders. Lord Bridwell insisted that I go upstairs and begin packing and for the first time since I have met him, I agreed with something he said. But instead of packing my belongings, I decided to get
his
ready for a swift departure.”

A grin spread across Nathaniel's face. He should have known that Harriet would not be so easily chased away. “Lord Bridwell told me you were leaving.”

Harriet paused and stiffened her spine. “He thought he could scare me off, the old coot. But let me tell you, it will take far more than an irritating, tyrannical old bugger like Lord Bridwell to eject me from your life.”

A deep sense of relief swept over Nathaniel. For a long moment he just stared at her. She was magnificent in her righteous anger, with her eyes blazing and her bosom heaving. He knew of course that he loved her, but he knew also that he wanted to take care of her, to be her lover, her husband, her partner in all things.

“Harriet, I love you.”

Her hand froze in the act of tossing a neat pile of handkerchiefs into the luggage. “What?”

“I said, I love you.”

“I know.” Harriet's eyes grew soft. “I heard you the first time, but I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

She threw the linen handkerchiefs on the floor and came rushing into his arms. Nathaniel enfolded her in his embrace, then lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that was tender and pure, a promise that at last could be fulfilled.

It felt heavenly to hold her thus, to declare openly that she was his. He realized in that moment that trying to live the rest of his life without Harriet would be impossible. There would be no true, sustained happiness if she were not with him. Love, in its unselfish state, would forever hover elusively beyond his reach.

“Egad, I can't leave the two of you alone for a minute.”

Nathaniel reluctantly lifted his head. “Go away, McTate.”

“I can't. There's trouble afoot.” The laird entered the room and glanced around in confusion. “What happened in here?”

“Harriet is supervising Lord Bridwell's departure,” Nathaniel explained. “She has a unique approach to packing.”

McTate's eyes lit with humor. “Hmm, remind me never to get that lass truly angry at me.”

“ 'Tis sound advice that I intend to follow for the rest of my life,” Nathaniel replied with a satisfied grin. He gave Harriet a last gentle kiss, then reluctantly turned to McTate. “You said there was trouble?”

“Aye. There's a man here inquiring after you. Says his name is Brockhurst.”

Nathaniel frowned. “The name does not sound familiar. Does he claim to know me?”

“No, he insists he has information of grave importance for you. He's English, most likely from London and 'tis my belief he's the runner your uncle hired to find you.”

“So naturally you admitted him to the house.” Nathaniel exhaled sharply. “I swear McTate, the next thing you'll be telling me is that you've invited the magistrate to dinner!”

The Scotsman shot him an unconcerned glance. “Never fear, I'll not allow him to arrest you. It would be a blot on my otherwise sterling character if it were ever known that I harbored such a dangerous criminal within these walls.”

“Duncan McTate!” Harriet's voice trembled with indignation.

“Och, now don't let your feathers get all ruffled, lass. I was merely joking.”

Nathaniel, used to the laird's sense of humor, took no offense. “Where is Brockhurst?”

“I had the butler show him to the drawing room.”

Nathaniel groaned. “I left my uncle in there barely a half an hour ago. Where are the children?”

“Safe in the nursery having a grand time,” McTate replied. “I've got servants posted on all the stairways to the third floor. It would take Wellington's army to get past my men.”

Satisfied the children were well taken care of, Nathaniel led the way to the drawing room, his uneasiness growing with each step. Within the room Lord Bridwell and the runner waited in complete silence, the atmosphere brittle with tension.

The grim feelings Nathaniel had experienced earlier strengthened as he faced the two men. A large purple bruise shadowed the runner's jaw and he wore a rumpled coat that needed to be cleaned and pressed. Lord Bridwell's expression seemed more haggard than usual, but Nathaniel though that impression might be more his hopeful imagination than the truth.

“I am Lord Avery. I was told you wanted to speak with me, Brockhurst?”

The runner nodded. “I do, but first, I have something I need to deliver.”

Brockhurst reached into his satchel and pulled out a worn, ragged lump of fabric. It received little reaction from the others in the room, but Nathaniel recognized it instantly.

“Lady Julienne,” he muttered in astonishment.

“Is it really?” Harriet stepped closer, reaching eagerly for the doll. “Jeanne Marie will be overjoyed. Thank you, Mr. Brockhurst. You have made a little girl very happy.”

“ 'Tis an honor to be of service, Miss.” The runner briskly pulled a second item from the satchel. “In the course of my investigation I discovered this at your family's London residence. The letter is addressed to you, Lord Avery.”

Curious, Nathaniel unfolded the parchment. Harriet and McTate crowded close trying to get a look.

“It was written by my brother, Robert, a few days before his death,” Nathaniel exclaimed softly as he carefully read the page. “He worries for the future and asks me to care for his children if the fates are so cruel as to take his life.”

Nathaniel squeezed his eyes shut as memories of his dear brother filled his mind. The laughter and pranks of childhood, the secrets and fears of boys on the verge of manhood, the solid companionship and trust of men who shared a true regard for each other.

Nathaniel swallowed hard, worried that the ache in his throat would produce the tears he had refused to shed. “Even at the end when he was so dreadfully ill, Robert thought of those he loved. He did not fail me nor his children,” Nathaniel said stiffly. “And here stands the proof.”

Lord Bridwell's eyes grew round. “ 'Tis a forgery,” he hissed. “A pathetic attempt to manufacture evidence to support your claim of guardianship.”

“A fake letter discovered by a runner in your employ, Uncle? Even I cannot be that clever.”

“You could have planted it in the mansion at any time,” Lord Bridwell insisted. “There was ample opportunity.”

Nathaniel laughed. “To what end? If you discovered it we both know it would have quickly been turned to ash in the fireplace.”

With an awkward, nervous motion Lord Bridwell held out his hand. “I demand to read this so-called proof for myself.”