The Complete Regency Surrender Collection

It was happening again. And as usual, she could think of no way to stop it. To cry out would mean discovery and an end to the assault. But it would also require explanations and the story would eventually get back to Will and then to his brother. The servants would not conceal an attack on their mistress from the very people who might punish the perpetrator.

There would be questions, so many questions. Why would she welcome such a man into the house? Why had she not called out sooner? And the question she asked herself most often: Why had she not found a way to stop this, years ago?

As usual, she had no answer. And as usual, she closed her eyes and imagined she was somewhere else.

Chapter Seventeen

Will needed only a moment to decide the route and speed for his return trip to the manor. Keeping a sedate pace on the road beside the carriage would give him time to think. He did not need to do that. He had spent too much time in the last weeks trying to understand the circumstances of his new life. But when one was basing one’s cogitation on a horribly flawed series of supposed facts, one had nothing but nonsense at the end of it.

What he needed now was action, not thought. He set off cross country at a full gallop, through pastures and fields, scattering sheep and taking fences as a series of easy jumps. He had nothing to fear, after all. Jupiter was not dead. He had not fallen from a horse. And the injury he’d suffered was no accident.

He would arrive home much sooner than expected and surprise Justine de Bryun. The thought made him smile, but it was with none of the foolish, misplaced joy he’d been feeling lately. This was the kind of cold, grim satisfaction that thief takers must feel when they had their man dead to rights and heading towards the gallows.

He would arrive home and he would shake the truth out of her. He would ignore the huge, sad eyes and wistful smile, toss the lace into the fire and follow it with the ridiculous, prim cap she was likely wearing. A whore did not belong in modest gowns, nor did she bother to cover her head like a housewife. That she would sit with ladies under a scroll of virginal lace was an affront to him and his entire family.

She was a liar, nothing more than that. Below stairs, above stairs, and all the places in between. An image arose in his mind of the sweet, seemingly innocent face that had looked up at him as he’d touched her in their shared bed. Then he imagined that same face, smiling in a much more knowing way at Montague as they plotted against him. The beautiful body that had twined with his had writhed under another man, as she moaned with pleasure.

She was a liar and he had been a fool. Now it was not just her and Montague, but her sister he had to contend with. Lord knew if the girl was in any way involved in this. But was it really his problem, if she was not? He supposed she might be as big a victim as he was. All the same, it did not entitle her to much more than a ticket back to the school she supposedly attended.

The house was in sight now and he bore down on it, gaining speed, rather than slowing. After so long abandoned in a stall, Jupiter relished the speed, just as he did. But now he was eager to return to his own pasture and to be curried and cosseted by familiar hands. He stopped, still dancing with excitement, at the front door.

Will dismounted, handing the reins to a footman who could only manage an awed, ‘My, lord’, at the sight of the familiar, black stallion. Then Will pushed past him, into the house, to find his wife.

Not his wife, he reminded himself. No more weakness, no more foolishness. She was a madman’s plaything, nothing more than that. Soon she would be gone. She and her lover would be in the hands of the law and life would return to normal.

When he opened the door of the morning room, the scene before him left his mind as blank as it had been when he’d first awoken. Justine was sprawled upon the couch, eyes shut tight from fear or pain, or both. Her face was dead pale, except for a red mark on one cheek, where a man’s hand had slapped life into her complexion. Montague stood over her, radiating menace.

For a moment, Will could not think of anything, other than how wrong it was that such a thing should happen. Men did not hit women and they certainly did not do it while under his roof. That such a beautiful creature as his wife should have to fear anything, ever, was all the more wrong. Had he not promised her, over and over, that she would be safe with him?

He was halfway across the room, his hand already raised to strike before he even remembered how satisfying it would be to hit this particular man, who had stolen six months of his life and ruined the one good thing that had come of it: his sweet and innocent Justine.

‘No!’ The word seemed to come, not from his mouth, but the very depths of his soul. With one hand, he gripped Montague by the shoulder and spun him. With the other, he struck. It was a full-armed cuff to the side of the head that sent Montague crashing to the floor.

‘Will.’ Justine’s eyes were open now and he watched their expression change quickly from shock to relief, then change again to sorrow. Then she whispered, ‘He has a gun. It is in his coat pocket.’

In response, he gave her a curt nod and focused on the man at his feet.

‘If you stand, I will knock you down again. If you move for a weapon, I will break your hand with my boot. And do not think that I will turn my back on you, even for an instant. There will be no more chances to strike me from behind.’

Montague seemed barely bothered by this revelation. ‘You finally remember, do you?’ His lack of fear was unnerving.

‘I remember it all, down to the last detail. You were a fool to bring my horse back to Wales, you know. It was bound to be discovered.’

Montague shrugged at this. ‘Of all the things that would be my undoing, I did not think that would be the one. Do you mean to call the magistrate? It is your brother, is it not? He will arrest me and my mistress, and you will be free of us. I am sure it will be a terrible scandal and very embarrassing to all concerned. People will wonder that Bellston would be so easily fooled as to take a whore into the bosom of the family.’

Though Montague was mocking him, calling down the law would be the sensible thing to do. But now that justice was at hand, it felt strangely unsatisfying. There was something missing. Will resisted the urge to look back at the woman on the couch. If she was carted away to be punished for her crimes, he might never understand why she had gone to such lengths to trick him.

Instead, he stared down at Montague. ‘You will hang, of course. Stealing my horse would be reason enough. But your list of crimes is longer than that. Attempted murder, fraud...’

‘It is Justine who is guilty of fraud,’ Montague supplied, as though trying to be helpful. ‘It was her idea to come here, to masquerade as your wife, and to try to steal the diamonds you claimed to have found. If I hang, then she must as well.’

‘He killed my father.’ Justine spoke at last, her voice barely a whisper. ‘Let justice be done.’ If he turned to her, he would likely see that same, resigned, annoyingly obedient woman who had sat at his bedside and later come to his bed. Now she meant to go uncomplaining to the gallows.

Surely an innocent woman would have spirit enough to defend herself. Did she not understand that it would take only a word of entreaty and he would face down the devil himself to protect her?

But Montague was another matter entirely. Will glared down at him in disgust. ‘I would much prefer that we settle this like gentlemen, if that is even possible. I know you prefer to strike men from behind and threaten women. If you can find someone foolish enough to stand with you, I will meet you at dawn.’

Montague laughed at this, as though the very idea of a duel was beyond him. ‘And if not?’

‘Then you will go to the gallows, just as you wish. Do not think to run. You will not cross the borders of my brother’s land unnoticed.’

‘That is not much of a choice,’ Montague responded.

‘It is the only one I am prepared to offer. With one, you stand a small chance of success and I can have my vengeance. If not, I shall turn you both over to the law and not think of it again. Although I would most like to be responsible for your death, I can live without the chance.’

‘Then of course we shall duel,’ Montague replied. ‘And since Justine tells me you are weakened since the accident, I will choose swords. They are a weapon of a man with finesse. Very hard to handle when one’s hand still shakes.’

‘They are also more difficult to handle than a fireplace poker,’ Will said, pleased to see Montague flinch as the shot hit home.

By the time he answered, he had regained his aplomb. ‘Very well, then. Swords at dawn. Send word of the location to the inn. Now, if you will excuse us?’

Will gave a slight tip of the head.

Montague stood and gestured to Justine. ‘There is no need of a spy in your house, now that you are aware of her. Come, Justine.’

‘The girl stays.’ Will did not want to look at her, afraid of what he might see. Even now, she might be stirring on the couch, ready to return to her master.

Montague dropped his hand and shrugged. ‘If you wish to keep her, she is yours. Until tomorrow, of course. Then I shall kill you and she will return to me. She will have no choice. Send word to the inn where you wish to meet and I shall see you at sunrise.’ And then he was gone.

* * *

With the departure of Montague, a terrible stillness fell over the room. As if there was anything Justine could say that would explain or justify what had happened. Instead, she said the first words that came to her mind. ‘How long have you known?’

‘Just today,’ Will said, still looking at the closed door. ‘The coachmen found Jupiter yesterday, while bringing your sister to you.’

‘And your memory came back?’

‘All of it,’ he said, turning to her with a grim smile. ‘Including the memory of you doing nothing to stop him, as he struck me down.’

That must be how it appeared to him. He would never believe her true feelings for him, if he remembered her from that day in Bath. Her future was destroyed. But perhaps there was a way that some good would come from this whole sordid mess. ‘Margot had no part in any of it. She did not even know of my...intimate association with Mr Montague.’

‘Is that all you have to say to me?’ he said, with an ironic lift of his eyebrow. He took a seat on the opposite side of the room from her, as though he would keep as much distance from her as was possible. When he looked at her it was with the same, cynical appraisal he had used on the day they had met, in the shop in Bath, so many months ago.

She stared back at him, although not nearly as boldly. ‘I have many things to say,’ she admitted. ‘But I can think of none that is more important than the welfare of my sister. What good would an apology do? There is no way to say I am sorry for the deception I have perpetrated. Mr Montague’s assault on your person was so sudden that I did not know how to prevent it. To stop him from striking the second blow to finish you, I suggested that it would be better to bring you home so that I might steal the diamonds you claimed to have found.’

‘And if you had found them?’ he asked. ‘Would you have gone back to him?’

‘I meant to steal from him as well,’ she said. ‘To take them and escape with Margot, to a place where he could not find us.’

‘And the rest of it?’ he said. ‘Our elopement? My tragic accident?’ He was sneering now, as though the very idea of a past with her disgusted him.

‘I could think of no other way to explain myself.’

‘And so you lied.’

‘I lied,’ she admitted.

‘I suppose the things that happened when we were alone together were lies as well.’

‘Would you believe me if I said they weren’t?’

‘Probably not,’ he admitted.

Had she been hoping for a different answer? If so, her time here had made her foolish and overly optimistic. Perhaps it had been her imagination that his voice had softened, just for a moment, as though he, too, wished there could be a different end to this.

‘Then all I can say to you is that I am sorry,’ she said, at last. ‘For hurting you and for tricking myself into believing my own lies. I should have admitted all, the day you awakened. I knew, from that moment, that this day would come. The longer I waited, the easier it became to pretend that there was a chance for happiness here. And now you hate me. I do not blame you.’

He said nothing in response and, in her mind, she cursed herself for wishing that he would offer some sop, to tell her she was wrong about his feelings. ‘Now that we are at an end, I have but two requests.’

‘You are not in a position to bargain with me over anything,’ he said, emotionless.

‘I know that. I deserve nothing, just as I have told you from the first moment we met. But I know you to be a good man, a kind man, a man of honour. As I said before, my sister had nothing to do with any of this. What I have done, from the first, I did for her.’ She bowed her head. ‘Do what you will with me, but do not punish Margot. At the very least, do not let her fall to the same unfortunate depths I have.’

He stared at her, without answering. Then he said, ‘Your second request?’

‘Do not duel with Montague.’

Will gave an incredulous laugh. ‘You wish me to spare his life?’

‘I wish you to protect your own.’

He made another disgusted noise. ‘You have no faith in my abilities to defend myself.’

‘On the contrary, I have infinite faith in Mr Montague’s ability to turn a situation to his advantage. He will find a way to cheat. And then he will kill you.’ She rose from the chair and sank to her knees before him. ‘I would not see that happen for all the world. Have him arrested and be done with this.’

‘They would take you as well,’ he said. ‘Do not think that I can protect you from this, for I do not know if that is possible.’

‘Then let them take me,’ she said, taking his hand in hers. When she squeezed it, she felt an answering grip. But there was no sign in his face that it was anything other than a reflex. ‘Since I’ve been with you, I’ve had a lifetime of happiness. But that is over now. I must be punished for what I have done to you and your family. Let me go.’

It seemed he might not want to, for the grip on her hand was even stronger than it had been. Still, when he spoke, there was no sign of it in his voice. ‘No matter what you might wish, I cannot go back on my word to Montague. If I could offer a challenge, and then take him unawares tonight, I would be no better than he is.’

‘If you mean to throw your life away, then what was the point of saving you?’ she said, pulling her hand away to wipe away a tear. ‘If I had not stopped him, he’d have killed you in Bath and I would truly have been a murderer. Now you will be dead and I will have to go on, knowing I am to blame.’

‘I am sorry to have inconvenienced you,’ he said. He stood up and stepped around her. ‘I am going to my room. I need to think. I will write to my brother and try to explain any of this.’ He gave a vague gesture, as though it might be possible to draw a sensible version of events out of the air in front of him. Then he added, ‘And I suppose I must think of something to do with your sister. At the very least, I can arrange to send her back to where she came from.’

It was such a small thing, yet it was more than she could have hoped for. ‘Thank you,’ she said, softly. ‘In return, what do you wish me to do?’

‘I have no idea. Nor do I care.’ He gave a half-bow, as though he had rendered her a service of some kind. ‘I am locking the door between our rooms, if that is what you are hinting at. Knowing what I do, I will not sleep easy if it is open. For the rest?’ He shrugged. ‘You are your own woman, Miss de Bryun. You are free of Montague and I no longer want you. What you do now is totally up to you.’

Chapter Eighteen

Will stared out of his bedroom watching the sun set through the first of the autumn leaves. It had been a lovely day. That it might be his last was a disappointment. But it could not be helped.

The righteous anger that had sped his journey home had disappeared like fog in sunlight, at the sight of Justine sprawled helpless before the angry Montague. In that moment, all he could remember was that she was his and she was in danger. Perhaps, tomorrow, she would laugh over his bleeding body and ride away with his killer. Today, in this house, he could only see the pale, beautiful woman who had watched over him as he suffered and came to his bed as though it was the only place she found happiness.

He should have called the servants, then called Adam and trusted it all to the law. Instead, he had informed his brother, in a terse note that his services would be needed in the morning, as a second. Since he had got no outraged response, he assumed that Adam had not yet returned from the inn.

Perhaps it was for the best. If Montague was left unwatched, he might decide to cut his losses and run. It would leave only Justine and her sister to deal with. That had best be done at a distance, with lawyers and bank drafts. One look into her beautiful green eyes and he would lose what was left of the common sense he had been so proud of and believe that they had actually been in love.

He stared at the door connecting their rooms. Despite what he had threatened, he had not locked it against her. Now he was possessed with the thought that she stood on the other side, ready to test the handle. If it opened, he would welcome her to his bed, just as he had every day that they’d lived here. Knowing what he did, it would be bittersweet to have her in his arms. But better that than the empty flavourless existence of a life without her. If she would just open that door and allow him some tattered scrap of pride, he could forgive anything and they would be together again.

There was a sharp rap upon his door, but it came from the hall and not her room. There was a moment of silence, then another knock, as though the person in the hallway had no time to waste. It was far too bold for a servant, but who else would it be?

When he opened it, he was surprised to see the younger Miss de Bryun staring up at him. Though nearly as lovely as her sister, Margot’s looks were spoiled by a certain stubborn set of the mouth that promised continual strife to the man who did not let her have her way.

Without a word, she pushed past him, and sat upon the end of his bed. ‘I need to speak with you, Lord Felkirk,’ she said, swinging her feet impatiently.

‘Then it would be far better that we do it in a public room,’ he replied, standing by the open door. Did no one in Justine’s family have an understanding of basic manners? Or was this another seductive trap?

‘You are not in a public room,’ she reminded him. ‘You have not come out of this one all day. When I asked after you, the servants told me you were not to be disturbed.’

‘It is plain you did not listen to them,’ he said, closing the door and leaning against it.

‘I cannot get Justine to talk to me, either,’ Margot said with a frown. ‘She is locked in her bedroom, weeping and writing what I expect is a tragic confession of her imagined sins. And no one will explain to me what is going on.’ She glared at Will as though it was all somehow his fault. ‘I am tired of listening to people who do not really say anything.’

‘Perhaps they do not speak to you because what is happening is none of your business,’ he said with a pointed look.

Margot’s lips pursed with a stubbornness that almost diminished her loveliness. ‘How would you know if it was my business or not? You hardly know me at all. I have no family but Justine and Mr Montague. Since they are two out of three of the persons involved in this problem, that is a clear majority.’

‘Montague?’ he said in surprise. ‘You claim him as kin?’

‘He is our guardian,’ she said, with a frustrated huff. ‘Surely you realised that.’

Will had nothing to say to this that did not indicate supreme ignorance, so he remained silent.

Margot continued to glare at him. ‘He was my father’s partner. When Mother died, he all but inherited us, along with the store.’

If that was true, his dear Justine’s past was even more sordid than he’d suspected. ‘That is no concern of mine,’ he said, doing his best to contain his emotions. ‘I do not know what your sister has told you, but I am not really her husband.’

‘Of course she told me,’ Margot said, speaking clearly as though she thought him slow of wit. ‘I am her sister. She is not an open book. Until recently, I did not understand the depth of her troubles. But it is obvious that the two of you are well suited and very much in love. I urged her to explain everything to you immediately, so that you might be properly married.’

His mouth opened to deny her claim. But the only thought in his mind was a desire to question her further on the subject. What had her sister told her? Did Justine actually have feelings for him, or was that just another part of the lie?

Margot ignored his silence. ‘I thought I understood the situation in Bath. But after what Montague said this afternoon, it is plain that too many secrets have been kept from me. And now you mean to keep secrets as well.’

‘You spoke to Montague?’ he said, surprised.

‘I was there when he arrived,’ she replied. ‘Since my dear sister has denied me the truth, I blundered through the conversation, thinking he was nothing worse than a foolish old man with an unreturned penchant for Justine.’

‘And what persuaded you otherwise?’

‘When he announced that she had seduced him in an effort to keep me from returning to take my place in the business.’ The girl shuddered in disgust. ‘As if his word would be enough to turn me against one who has been like a mother to me since my birth.’

‘You do not trust Montague?’ he said.

‘I did not distrust him,’ she said cautiously, ‘until today, at least. All I knew was that I was packed off to school as soon as it was deemed proper to send me, and I have hardly been home since.’ She frowned again. ‘I had hoped that there would at least be useful lessons, like bookkeeping. But instead, they attempted to teach me needlework, which I have no skill for, and French, which I already knew. It was an enormous waste of my time.’

Will ignored the girl’s almost masculine views of education and turned the conversation back to the subject that interested him. ‘If you were not home, you cannot possibly know what was going on between the two of them.’

At this she sighed. ‘I know because, despite how everyone has been treating me, I am not some naïve child.’

‘You are very young,’ he argued.

Now she was looking at him as though he was the innocent in the room. ‘You are fortunate, Lord Felkirk, that you were not born female. It is even worse to be born a pretty one, if you have no family to keep you safe. Our father died before I was born. And Mother was...’ She paused again. ‘She was not right. I remember a pale woman who did not speak and who died when I was almost ten, because she could find no reason to live. But through it all, I remember Justine, putting her needs aside and caring for me as a mother should care for a daughter. She warned me that men who talk loudest of chivalry will throw it aside in a heartbeat, if they see an opportunity to satisfy their desires without repercussion.’

‘You have a very dark view of mankind, Miss de Bryun,’ he answered.

‘That is the fault of mankind, Lord Felkirk, for proving my sister right. I have known of Mr Montague’s unwholesome interest in my sister for quite some time. But I had no idea that he would be so villainous as to act on it. If she wanted me to stay at school, she was likely ashamed...’ For a moment, the girl’s rather brusque manner faltered and she seemed on the edge of tears. Then she swallowed and went on. ‘I had no idea that her warnings spoke from experience. If she refused to let me return home, it was because she feared for my safety there. And if she remained with Montague...’

The girl did cry now, pulling an already-damp handkerchief from her sleeve and wiping at her eyes. ‘She would never have given herself to him willingly. And she would not have stayed with him had she not feared something even worse would happen should she leave. She should have let me come home. I’d have helped her.’

Will sat beside her and gave her a gentle pat on the arm, pressing his own dry handkerchief into her hand. Even in tears, she was pretty. In a few years, she would be as beautiful as her sister. But until she was of age, she had no choice but to accede to the wishes of her guardian, just as Justine had done. ‘You needn’t think that. After all, what could you have done?’

‘I’d have killed him,’ she said, vehemently. ‘I’d have struck him down with the same poker he used on you, before I let him touch me. And I would not have let him hurt Justine, ever again. But she would not tell me the truth. She is not like me. She thinks of no one but herself, she never complains and she will not ask for help, no matter how much she needs it. She thinks she must be the strong one.’

He remembered her, in this very room, stroking his arm in the dark, kissing the scar as though the brand he bore was a mark of honour. It had been after the strange dream where she had demanded to be left alone. She had all but admitted the truth to him, talking of her difficult life.

At the time, he had been full of sympathy for her. He had vowed that he would keep her safe. But today, when she needed him, he had walked away as though she did not matter to him. Even after she had announced that she was willing to go to the gallows if it might spare him the risk of a duel, he had refused to trust her.

He took Margot by the hand and pulled her up from the mattress, walking her towards the door. ‘Do not fear, little one. That time is over. From now on, I will be her strength.’

‘Fine words,’ she said, almost spitting them back at him. ‘I have heard similarly vague promises from Mr Montague himself. But know, Lord Felkirk, that I will not allow you to treat my sister as he has done. She is not some pretty bauble to be used and discarded when you are bored with her.’

‘That was never my intention,’ he said softly.

‘Intentions mean nothing,’ she said, with a dismissive wave, ‘if they are undone by one’s actions. You claimed to love her. And yet, at the first sign of real trouble, you mean to cast her out.’ She turned to glare at him. ‘You will forgive me if I think my sister has suffered enough at the hands of men. In short, my lord, if you do not want her, do not think you can send her back to Montague with a clear conscience. It would be better to have her arrested and let her take her chances with the courts than to return her to the suffering she has endured from that monster.’ And with that, she was gone, slamming the door so hard that even the stone walls seemed to shake.