Andrews Brothers 02 - The Rescue Page 17

  The cook preened under the compliment, even going so far as to pat her hair and smile, which was a rare sight. The scullery maids hovered with their hands clasped in anticipation of their own compliments. Farrah struggled to find more to say, and when Devlin strode into the room she found she was almost relieved. Almost.

  “What are you doing down here? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Your father and I need to speak with you posthaste.”

  “Excuse me,” said Farrah, hitching her skirts and running up the stairs. Her heart thumped madly in her chest. This was it. Devlin would reveal her newest torment and how her father would help him.

  She entered the first floor of the house. Devlin was a few steps behind. Instead of going to the library, where her father surely waited to tell her of her fate, she ran out the front door and headed for the woods.

  ****

  Chadwick threw the note into the fire. Flames licked the colorful, perfumed stationary. Devlin had wasted no time changing the game. Imagine Devlin sending out invitations to his impending wedding! Had the lord even consulted with Farrah? And if so, when? The two of them had only been together for a day. Was it possible the plans and invitations had been created so quickly? More likely the lord had already had everything ready and waiting.

  Chadwick slapped the mantle and rubbed his throbbing palm. His plan for a masked ball might be too little, too late. He needed inside help to arrest the property from Devlin and hand it back to Lord Mountjoy. Farrah was the most logical ally but with her feelings hurt over his recent betrayal, he could hardly count on her support even if the end result helped her.

  While Kingsley was an excellent cohort, he wasn’t Roland, and Chadwick wished his henchman was by his side.

  Rescuing a damsel in distress while rebuilding a crumbing empire with no help was a feat he wasn’t prepared for. Sympathy for Luke’s plight after his own departure saddled him with guilt, and he sat on the sofa and stared out the window.

  Rowena strolled about the grounds. She held her arm forward like a dog led her, only there was no animal present. Kingsley held her empty hand and oft times bent and pretended to pet the imaginary animal.

  “She had a dog, you know.”

  Chadwick turned his head and his breath caught. Farrah appeared at his side and stared out the window. Her hair was pinned in a bun at the base of her neck and covered by a bonnet. Mud encased her shoes and the hem of her pale blue gown. She removed her pelisse and laid it over the back of a chair. Pins fell from her bun as she ran her fingers through her hair and sighed.

  “Rowena had a beautiful border collie that followed her everywhere she went. Then one day he disappeared.” She paused and faced him. “Rowena would have been a wonderful mother. Kind, doting, but for whatever reason she was never given a chance.”

  Chadwick gulped.

  “Year after year went by and she failed to conceive. Instead of dwelling on it she began doting on a stable boy who worked for Ravenwood.” She released a shaky breath. “The day the dog went missing so did he. They found them both floating in the river some miles away.”

  Farrah faced the window again. “The poor lady hasn’t been right since that day. Her husband returned from London and she begged him to have a funeral for her son and dog. He told her she was crazy and they had an argument. He tripped, fell down the stairs, and broke his neck.”

  Chadwick gazed more intently at the elderly woman in the garden. “So she lost everyone in…”

  “In a week’s time.”

  Pity welled in his breast. She was as alone as he, just as he’d feared. Taking a chance, he asked, “How come no one has said anything to me?”

  Farrah smiled over her shoulder. “Because you are her son.”

  “Ah.” What did she mean? He was afraid to hear the answer.

  She patted his arm. “We all know you aren’t really her son. But if she believes you are…” She shrugged and tilted her head. “However, that doesn’t stop me from wanting to ask, who are you?”

  He couldn’t afford to take the bait. If she discovered his true identity he would be sent to the gaol and if that happened too early he wouldn’t be able to help her. Instead of answering, he asked, “I think the better question is, what are you doing here?”

  She wagged her finger. “I see you’ve changed the subject. Since I see no harm coming to Rowena over your duplicity, I will allow it to stand without comment.” She paused. “For now.” He cocked a brow and she added, “Besides I’m here because I hope your offer of assistance still stands.”

  “But what about my handing you over to Devlin? Aren’t you upset?”

  “Yes, immensely. But I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe there is more to the situation than at first one sees.”

  His heart soared that she hadn’t completely written him off.

  She paced toward the fireplace and tapped her finger to her forehead. “I know when you brought me here, and secreted me away in the attic, you had no intentions of giving me over to Devlin. If you had then you would have taken me directly to Flannigan House. No, he threatened you somehow. He got to you. Now I want to know how.”

  His heart plummeted and he sought a way to distract her from her original question. “You’re here because you want me to help you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then here is my idea.”

  ****

  Sweet perfume permeated the air. He handed her an envelope. Farrah placed a strand of hair behind her ear before running a letter opener from Rowena’s desk under the seal. The thick paper unfolded. She read the words and furrowed her brow.

  You are cordially invited to attend a

  masked ball at the home

  Of Lady Rowena Ravenlowe on

  December 20, 1802

  Farrah flipped the invitation over, but no other details were listed. Just a masked ball at Ravenwood and the date. She peered from beneath her lashes at Andrew. A wide grin spread across his face. He seemed pleased with himself.

  “Um, I’m not sure what this means.”

  “It means we’re going to reenact the event that gave Devlin your property.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. She should tell him that Devlin was forcing her to wed him. She should let him know that the party wouldn’t do any good. “How will this help?” she asked.

  “We’ll have a masked ball. Gamers of all levels will be there and will be ready to take Devlin for a ride.”

  “If you rig—”

  “Nothing will be rigged. It will all be very legitimate. We are just going to beat him at his own game.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to help you.”

  Her stomach fluttered and she shivered. She really shouldn’t even consider attending. She should tell him that Devlin and her father planned to arrange another wedding. But plans to separate Devlin’s claim from her own and keep the wedding from occurring raced through her mind. If there was even a slight chance…

  Pain tugged at her heart. She should be at home, pining for Angus or making plans to travel to the coast to find him, not making eyes at Chadwick.

  “You will come, yes?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He clasped her hands and brought them to his lips. “I can’t do this without you.”

  Her lips twitched. “Why would you need to?”

  “Hmm, you have a point.”

  She pulled her hands free, retrieved her pelisse, and settled it over her shoulders. “Perhaps I can do more than attend.”

  One corner of his lips twitched. “I hoped you’d say that.”

  ****

  The door slapped the wall. Devlin placed his hands on his hips. “Where have you been?”

  Farrah lowered her book and cocked a brow in Devlin’s direction. “I visited Ravenwood.”

  “I ordered you to the library to speak with your father and you just disappeared!”

  She returned to her book, her heart fluttered madly, and she tried to concen
trate on the words before her.

  He slammed his palm against the desk. “Farrah Burrows, look at me!”

  Farrah sighed heavily as she flipped the book upside down and laid it across her leg then studied him silently, waiting.

  “Good. Now, listen. When I tell you to do something, you don’t run off and do something else.” She didn’t reply, and his face reddened, matching a beet peel. “I can see you don’t believe me when I say you should do as I say.”

  Casually, she held up an envelope.

  He stomped his feet until he stood before her. “What is that?” She made no move and he ordered, “Give it to me.”

  Pinching her fingers together, she held the paper at arm’s length and handed it over. “Here you are, my liege.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but he ignored her tone as he read the invitation.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This invitation. What does it mean?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess it means they are having a party at Ravenwood and I’ve been invited. Our families have been friends for years.”

  “You cannot go.”

  “I think I misheard you. I believe you said I can’t go.”

  “No, you can’t.” He bent forward and threw the invitation into the fire. Before the corners could singe Farrah reached in and retrieved it. “What are you doing?” His voice echoed.

  “I don’t want to lose the invitation or I might miss the party.”

  “But I said—“

  “I heard you. You said I couldn’t go. But since you have no control over what I do, I don’t think it matters what you say.”

  He blinked rapidly like he was in shock. He shook his finger. “Mark my words, if you go to that party your life will never be the same.” He stomped from the room.

  Farrah shivered, but for once she hoped Devlin was right.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “The guest list seems rather extensive.” Kingsley glared over the rim of his spectacles. “Have you ever planned a masked ball before, my lord?”

  Chadwick shook his head. “No, but I have attended one.”

  “Just one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.”

  Kingsley refocused on the paper and Chadwick’s lips twitched. The poor man was beside himself. All the invitations had been sent and the replies were filtering in.

  The reason for the masked ball was so no one could see his face. He needed to play Devlin in a game of Brag and win back Burrows’ land. He also needed to find Vonda and scare her off, a daunting task, but one that needed to be done.

  Juliet scurried into the room and handed Kingsley a stack of papers. “More acceptances, Mr. Kingsley. I truly do not know how we will be able to accommodate so many people. And what of Lord Ravenwood? Everyone invited knows my lady doesn’t have—”

  “Uh-hmm!” Kingsley nodded his head in Chadwick’s direction.

  This was a complication he hadn’t considered. The people Rowena had invited would surely know she didn’t have a son. How would they explain his presence? Should he let the staff in on the fact he remembered who he was, or should he keep silent and pray the mask would fool those individuals as well?

  Juliet’s face turned several shades of red and she backed out of the room. Kingsley didn’t look at him, instead opening the replies. “This one seems promising. I think it was a good idea to invite those who enjoy a good game.” Kingsley removed his spectacles. “How do you know these people enjoy gambling?”

  Chadwick shrugged. “Good guess.”

  Kingsley ended his line of questioning and Chadwick relaxed. He knew those he invited enjoyed gambling because he’d gambled with them. Another reason for the masked ball. He couldn’t have people discovering where he resided and sending word back to Luke. The effects of such could be devastating to Farrah, Rowena, and himself. He smiled that he’d thought of himself last. Maybe he was changing.

  Kingsley summoned the cook. They discussed the dishes to serve, the tables needed, the number of candles and all the other minute details he cared not a whit about. His mind was focused on the gaming room.

  The room would be off the main ballroom. Men would need to fill the room at all times. Devlin should be plied with drink before he entered so he would be more likely to up his bets early on. His purse would need to be empty before the deeds to Burrows and Flannigan lands would be offered.

  Of course there was the little added matter of Vonda. She would no doubt attend such a prestigious gambling event whether invited or not.

  Chadwick donned his greatcoat and exited the house. Snowflakes whirled and landed on his shoulders. Dead grass crunched beneath his boots.

  Now that all his memories had returned, he realized he wasn’t very good at gambling. Multiple games of Faro had almost devastated his family’s estate. He should write Luke a note of apology and have a servant take it to a different town to post. That wouldn’t be enough for the trouble he caused, though maybe if he could replace some of the funds… But how? He would not take Rowena’s money. That was out of the question. He would need to think of another way. But with no skills, what was a man to do?

  He strolled along the empty road. Farmers waved, and he nodded. After a fashion, he reached the top of a hill and stopped. On the other side rested Flannigan House. The rectangular, unadorned, red brick building filled the miniscule valley. A fence surrounded the property and footmen paraded back in forth in a military like rhythm.

  A balcony door opened and a red headed woman exited. Farrah lifted her chin to the sky and closed her eyes. Chadwick’s heart soared. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Maybe one day she would come to love him as he loved her.

  ****

  Tiny prickles raced along her skin. Someone watched her. Farrah lowered her chin and searched the yard. The marching footmen peered straight ahead, their stares never straying upward. She shifted her gaze over the hillside. And then she saw him.

  Andrew lifted his hand in a wave. She returned the action, feeling heat rush to her cheeks when he blew her a kiss.

  Why was it she wanted to dislike him, but couldn’t? He had to be a rogue and a scoundrel to pretend to be Rowena’s son, yet he treated the elderly lady with such respect and love. Was he after her money? If so, could he not have taken it and run already? No there was something more. More than just helping Rowena, more than just helping her. There was something about Andrew that kept him rooted here, helping them.

  Hands on the balcony’s edge, she squeezed until her knuckles whitened. Andrew’s heated gaze was palpable. The wind caressed her neck and she imagined it was his hand stroking her. The thought increased her pulse and sweat broke out on her palms. Swallowing, she released the stone and backed away. Two steps, and she was within the confines of her room.

  “What are you doing?” She twirled at the sound of Devlin’s voice. He grabbed her arm and squeezed. She gritted her teeth to keep from squealing. “Why do I constantly find you doing things you shouldn’t?”

  She retrieved her arm from his grasp and rubbed the reddening area. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You seem to act like you have control over me and as I told you before—”

  “You think I don’t. I know. Now that we’ve gotten your opinions out of the way, the solicitor has returned and is requesting our presence in the library.”

  Farrah’s heart beat a rapid tattoo against her chest and stars flashed before her eyes. Barely managing a nod, she said, “I’ll be down soon.”

  He grunted and left. Farrah drew on a green spencer that matched her white muslin gown decorated with green embroidery. Her feet sheathed in delicate slippers she patted stray hairs into place and drew in a deep breath. What the solicitor said could change her life. If he said she held the claim to the land then her father could end his foolish notion that she should marry Devlin, but if Devlin was given the land then she would have little recourse left to her. Because n
o matter what her father had done, he was still her father and she couldn’t just leave him to be homeless, or possibly be sent to debtors’ prison. She would do whatever it took to protect him. With no word from Angus, hopes of him coming to her rescue faded. Either Andrew’s party idea would work, or she would be attached to Devlin for eternity.

  She opened the door as the Hagan brothers traipsed by. Arms swinging back and forth like a military regiment, they walked two by two. When they reached the stairs they descended in unison. Why had Clovis not invited his six sons to live with him? His desire for children had killed multiple women, yet he had kept them at bay. Why?

  She entered the hallway only to be thwarted by Lucretia and Trace. Arm in arm they headed for the stairs, widening as they passed her and ensuring they blocked her path. She sucked in her chest and withdrew into an alcove. A table shifted, and a vase rocked. She hurried to grab it, but the encasement fell to the floor and dumped water and flowers upon the intricate rug.

  Farrah bent and retrieved the broken reeds. Soft petals fell into her hands and she squeezed them between her fingers and tried not to curse. Her life was not going as planned. Using the sole of her shoe, she shoved the debris beneath the table legs. She would inform the staff when she reached the library.

  Participants waited outside the closed library door. Gaston Gouge stood before the double doors and held up his hands for the crowd’s silence.

  “I know you’ve all come to hear what I have to say, but you must calm down. I am a soft-spoken man, and you will not be able to hear me if you insist on speaking at the same time.”

  A breeze blew, tickling her ankles, and lifting the hem of her gown. Sunlight blocked the visitor’s visage. The front entrance closed, and the light disappeared. Farrah blinked rapidly trying to decipher who had come for a visit during such a time.

  “Am I too late to join the festivities?” The sound of Andrew’s voice sent her heart hammering in her ears.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Devlin as he pushed through the throng.

  Andrew pointed through a window. “I was on the hill there and saw the visitors and thought you were having a party. I like parties.”