Andrews Brothers 02 - The Rescue Page 18

  “Are you drunk? This is a private engagement. You must leave. Bennington!”

  Farrah stepped forward and weaved her arm through Andrew’s. “There is no need to be hasty. Andrew Ravenlowe is a family friend and neighbor. He deserves to know who his new neighbors will be. What is the harm?”

  Cormac Hagan replied, “I don’t see a problem.”

  Her father narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. The solicitor merely shrugged.

  Devlin threw his hands into the air. “Very well. If you don’t mind that our business is aired across the countryside, then who am I to argue?”

  Farrah relaxed as they entered the library and found a seat.

  ****

  Perhaps he was as crazy as Rowena. What had possessed him to run down the hillside and enter a house with a closed door? Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. Farrah had possessed him. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. He needed to speak with her about their plan, her hair color, the weather, anything and everything. He just wanted to be near her.

  He patted her hand, and she shivered. Of course she was nervous, and why wouldn’t she be? He was nervous as well. If the solicitor decided in Farrah’s favor, then he need not worry about rescuing her by gambling, a pursuit he wasn’t very good at. But if Devlin won his case and their plan flopped, then another wedding might possibly be in Farrah’s immediate future.

  They settled on a sofa. The Hagan brothers stood behind them slapping each other. Lucretia and Trace sat on an opposite sofa. Lord Mountjoy picked a high backed chair. Gaston Gouge settled behind the desk. And Devlin Forster, Lord of Greywold, leaned against the front of the desk and crossed his feet at the ankles.

  Lord Greywold’s confidence was annoying, and Chadwick forced himself to control his rising temper.

  Gaston spoke. “As everyone here is aware, I’ve been investigating claims to Flannigan lands. This includes the house and grounds. Lord Norhaven originally had a stipulation that his wife would receive the entire fortune in the event of his demise. However, recent revelations have complicated matters. From the indication that Clovis had children, to the paper he signed before his death giving his land to Lord Greywold, not to mention his very fresh marriage. All of these things have served to confuse the issue of who should receive the inheritance.”

  The solicitor paused as if he expected someone to argue with his stated facts. When everyone remained silent, he continued. “Yes, well, I’ve adjourned to my office in London and investigated your claims.”

  “And?” asked Devlin, coming to his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “And, I’ve concluded that each claim is valid.”

  Devlin’s eyes widened and he blinked rapidly. “What! This is intolerable. What kind of investigator are you? You were supposed to resolve this issue. You are our judge and arbitrator!”

  Gaston raised his hand in a defensive gesture. “I did not say I have no decision, just that you each have valid claims. I do believe the Hagans are clearly Clovis’ sons. I also firmly believe Trace comes from the Lord Norhaven’s loins.” Lucretia’s lips widened. “But I also know the will makes no provision for illegitimate children. The only ones provided for are those who were married to—” Cormac Hagan started to interrupt, but Gaston continued. “—Clovis after he became lord.”

  Cormac’s shoulders slumped.

  “So you’re saying the two claims come down to Farrah, I mean, Lady Farrah and Lord Greywold, correct?” asked Chadwick.

  “That is correct.” Gaston perched a pair of wire rimmed spectacles on the tip of his nose and lifted a paper. “The signature on this slip of paper clearly gives the Flannigan property to Lord Greywold.” Devlin jumped to his feet, tugged on his coat, and smirked. “However, the will clearly states Clovis’ widow will inherit his property.” Devlin knitted his brows.

  “So what do we do now? Do we draw straws, play a game of Brag? What?”

  Chadwick thought, You would like that wouldn’t you, Devlin.

  Lord Mountjoy straightened in his chair. “There is no need for concern. Lord Greywold and I have designed a simple solution. In fact it is already in the works.”

  Farrah jumped to her feet. “No, Father! Please.”

  He shifted his gaze toward her, a pleading look in his eyes. “Farrah will marry Lord Greywold. The invitations to the wedding have already been delievered. The dispute is over.”

  Winlock didn’t wait for the solicitor to accept, nor for Farrah to sit. He rose to a standing position and left. Everyone’s mouth hung agape at his retreating form. A smug smile settled over Devlin’s lips.

  “I guess that resolves the issue. Gaston, you may return to London and draw up the papers that places myself as heir with my wife-to-be to inherit if I should perish, of natural causes. When the banns have been read, we will wed.”

  No one moved, and Devlin’s voice rose. “Dismissed!”

  The Hagan brothers scurried from the room followed by a defeated Lucretia and Trace. Chadwick and Farrah didn’t move. Garrett left the shadows and approached.

  “I’m sorry, my lady, but you should have known it was coming.”

  She nodded, but didn’t speak. Garrett exited. Farrah strode to the window and peered out. Chadwick came up behind her. It seemed their plan would be necessary after all.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  She sniffed.

  “But there is still hope. At the ball—“

  “At the ball that I won’t be able to attend! No, the situation is hopeless. Just don’t bother. Let it go, Andrew. Let me go!”

  She covered a sob and ran from the room. Chadwick snatched a glass figurine from the corner of the desk. Sailing it into the brick fireplace and seeing it crash into a million pieces would feel so good. His arm rose above his head, his eyes widened and he felt sick.

  A curricle rattled to a halt, a door opened, and Brigitta, Baroness of Stockport descended.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Bennington shuffled to the front door. Farrah froze and wiped tears from her cheeks. Who could be visiting now? Could she send them away and ask them to return at a later date? Did they not know how broken she was? How life had treated her poorly?

  The door opened and in walked the epitome of beauty and grace. Her silken gown of pale blue swathed her frame like that of a Greek statue, only protruding over her rounded middle. One strand of reddish brown hair curled upon the lady’s cheek. Her pale eyes shifted about, searching. Dumbstruck, Farrah waited to be recognized.

  “Farrah!” The yelp of excitement echoed throughout the hall and Farrah ran into her cousin’s waiting arms.

  “Brigitta! You’ve come! Oh, you’ve come.” The tears flowed more freely now.

  “My, my, what is with all the tears? I thought you would be happy that I’ve arrived.”

  Farrah sniffed. “Oh, I’m very happy. It is just, well, there has been a new development.”

  “Another? How is that possible? Yester eve your note said all was well.”

  Farrah prepared to speak, but Devlin exited the library. “And who do we have here? What vision of loveliness is this?” He bowed. When he rose, he gathered Brigitta’s hand and planted a kiss to the back. He shot a look of frustration toward Farrah. “Introduce us, Lady Farrah. You mustn’t be rude.”

  She bristled at the command, but obeyed. “This is my cousin, Brigitta, from my mother’s side. She and her husband have come for a visit.” She narrowed her eyes. “Where is your husband?”

  “Oh, he had some errands to run in town. He will be along in another day or so.”

  Farrah didn’t wait for Devlin to question further. Ignoring Devlin’s dissatisfied grunt, she wrapped her arm in Brigitta’s and escorted her upstairs. It would be a challenge to find a private place to talk, but she was determined to do so.

  ****

  Chadwick held his breath. Luke didn’t step from the carriage and he breathed a sigh of relief. Next, he waited for Brigitta to burst into the library and fin
d him out. When that didn’t happen, he peeked into the hall in time to see Farrah and Brigitta fleeing upstairs.

  “You’ve been forgotten,” Devlin stated as he lounged outside the door.

  Relief flooded him.

  “Now you can kindly leave my house.”

  Chadwick cocked a brow.

  “Rest assured, Farrah has shared the information about the party with me, and you shouldn’t bother setting a place for her. She won’t be in attendance.”

  The lord was attempting to bait him, but it wouldn’t work. He had other things on his mind. Like how he was going to continue to stay in the area with Luke about. And how had his brother found him? And how did Brigitta and Farrah know one another? Chadwick sauntered toward the door.

  “Sooner or later the world is going to find out about you, and when it happens I want to be around to witness Farrah’s face,” Devlin stated in a mocking tone of voice.

  Chadwick didn’t stop but continued out the door, past the carriage, and over the rise toward home.

  ****

  Devlin punched his fist into the wall of his bedroom. The window pane rattled. He massaged his throbbing hand. The Judas hole did little good if no one was on the other side.

  Farrah was smart. She had taken her cousin to the gardens. They strolled arm-in-arm, laughing and enjoying each others company. What did Farrah have to be happy about? The woman should be in her room, her head buried beneath her pillow, sulking.

  He drew his brows together and rubbed the spot between his eyes. If she was sulking then it would be because he wanted to marry her. He needed to rethink.

  Greatcoat on and buttoned, Devlin rammed his hat firmly onto his head. His lady love was holed up in Rochdale. Her spy had recently escaped her clutches, and, unable to find a replacement, she had opted to do the deed herself. Although with her beauty, hiding her presence in a town as small as Rochdale was difficult, and she’d summoned him to meet her.

  The ladies rounded the corner of the house, and Devlin snuck to the stables. Astride his favorite horse, he left the yard and headed for town.

  The ride was peaceful, and he reveled in his life. Everything was going according to plan. He’d convinced Winlock to give over his daughter in marriage, and he’d secured two hefty pieces of land in the process.

  Originally he’d thought to sell the area off in small plots, but now he wasn’t so sure. He kind of enjoyed the lifestyle Clovis had adopted. Having a servant for every nuisance suited him. He’d also thought to poison Farrah soon after their vows were spoken, but the suspicion it would cause made him wary. Not to mention Farrah’s beauty and sharp tongue. He should at least enjoy her charms before getting rid of her.

  All this brought about another problem. What of Lady Vonda? She would be considerably unhappy with his decisions. She had been the one to turn him to Clovis and offer monetary support while he worked the swindle. If he suddenly decided to change the rules at the end, she would not approve.

  The scenery passed by unnoticed and he entered the outskirts of Rochdale. Inhabitants stepped from the road and glared at him angrily as he failed to yield. They would soon learn who was in charge.

  The inn drew into focus. Devlin dismounted and handed his horse over to the stable hand. Removing his gloves, he slapped them against his wrist. Swallowing, he drew in a deep breath, and shored up his shoulders.

  Inside the establishment the owner directed him to Lady Vonda’s suite. He pecked on the door with his knuckle afraid of awakening her or finding her indisposed, which sent a shiver of anticipation along his spine.

  The door opened with a rough jerk. There stood the object of his obsession. Voluptuous, round, and full in the hips, she leaned against the door. Her lips twitched upward. “Good to see you, Lord Greywold.”

  He bowed. “As it is to see you, Lady Vonda.”

  A giggle escaped her lips as she tugged his arm and pulled him inside. He took a seat and she poured him a glass of sherry.

  “I hear you have news to share.”

  He cocked a brow. Did rumor really travel that fast in the small town or did she have a spy in his mist? The later made him uncomfortable. “Yes, you could say I do.”

  She sipped her drink. A heavily painted on eyebrow arched. “Word is you’ve ordered the banns be read. I presume this means you’re getting married.”

  He shifted and gulped.

  She came around behind him, and laid her hands on his shoulders. A sharp, pointed nail ran the width of his neck. “I don’t remember us discussing a wedding.”

  He wanted to swallow but feared a puncture. Instead he took her hand in his and drew her onto his lap. She smiled and he attempted to relax. “It was the only way to own the property.”

  She pouted and played with the folds of his cravat. “I heard otherwise.”

  Their eyes met. He couldn’t let her know he had pushed the issue. What consequences would she enact? She was ruthless. Vonda had taken down greater men than he. Mostly monetarily, but what would she do to someone who had no wealth? A shudder rippled through him. He didn’t want to know.

  “Whatever you’ve heard, you should trust that I did the best thing for us. This is what we wanted, right? Me to own the land, then we sell it off bit by bit? That can still happen, only now there is more to sell.”

  She stiffened. “More?”

  “Yes.” Hope soared in his breast. Maybe her spy didn’t know everything. “Now I will own Burrows’ land as well.”

  She removed herself from his lap and paced. “Interesting. Very interesting. Now we can sell off both pieces. Of course you will need to rid yourself of your wife.”

  “Of course,” he said, crossing his legs and leaning back in the plush chair. Just play along, just play along.

  She plopped onto the sofa across from him. “Have you heard of the masked ball at Ravenwood?”

  “Umm, yes.”

  “Did you know that every gambler ever known has been invited to attend?”

  “I did not.”

  Her voice raised several octaves. “Except for me!”

  “That I definitely did not know.”

  Vonda stood, her arms worked rapidly back and forth, fists rising to the air. “If they think they can get away with having a game where I’m not allowed to attend then they’d best think again.” She stopped and placed her hands on either side of his chair, her face inches from his. “Be glad you didn’t know about the slight to my character.” He nodded. “Find a way to get me into that party.”

  With that she turned on her heel and stalked to the window. He’d been dismissed.

  ****

  “Farrah, I don’t mean to rush you. But we’ve rehashed memories, we’ve discussed my marriage, but I’ve not come here for those things. I’m here to help you. You must let me know of this newest development.”

  They settled on a stone bench. The same one where she had sat with Andrew and her father only a few days before. A cool breeze blew and lifted tendrils of Brigitta’s hair. Leaves rustled. Spray from the fountain seemed to freeze in mid-air before falling with a gentle splash.

  With their hands clasped together, Farrah looked into her cousin’s face. “Brigitta, I must thank you for coming, but as of now I don’t think there is anything you can do.” She sighed. “The solicitor ruled that only my claim and Lord Greywold’s is legitimate,” Brigitta opened her mouth to interrupt, but Farrah hurried on. “At first glance this seemed a wonderful occurrence but upon learning of my father’s ultimate folly, it is not so.” She released Brigitta’s hands and paced before her.

  “Father, has incurred debt. Although he has said nothing to me of it until now, it seems he accepted money from Clovis, and sold our property to him in return for marrying me. Father was allowed to remain on the property so long as I was alive or outlived Clovis.”

  “How could he!” gasped Brigitta.

  “Apparently, he thought there was no other way. But I digress. It seems that father thought it prudent to strike the same deal with
Devlin. Otherwise if the law ruled in favor of Devlin, then Burrows property would remain with him, and we would be homeless.”

  “So he gave you up in marriage to keep this from occurring?”

  “Yes,” Farrah lowered her eyes.

  “And what are you going to do about it?” asked Brigitta rising to her feet.

  Farrah smiled. “I have a plan.”

  ****

  “Are you sure this will work, my lord?” asked Kingsley.

  “I’m sure of nothing,” replied Chadwick.

  In spite of the ruling and Devlin’s wedding announcement, the party prepared to go on. Chadwick adjusted his mask. The hat covered the color and style of his hair. The clothing covered the glow of his skin. The mask covered his distinct facial features.

  All he needed to do was stay hidden from Brigitta long enough to win back Farrah’s land and then he would escape.

  His heart hammered against his ribs. What if Luke attended the masked ball? It was one thing to fool his sister-in-law, but his brother would be another story. The similarity between them that had recently been advantageous to him would now be a hindrance.

  Reflected in the mirror’s glassy surface was Kingsley’s frowning face. Whispered humming drifted through the fireplace opening. “Our guest seems to be enjoying the attic storey.”

  Chadwick smiled. “How so?”

  “Why I caught the gent singing whilst he shaved. And can you not hear him humming?”

  “Yes and I find it refreshing.”

  “Humph.”

  Kingsley straightened Chadwick’s collar. He stalled Kingsley’s hand. “If an event occurs at the ball, I want you to know it has nothing to do with how I’ve been treated during my stay here.”

  “Lord Ravenwood—”

  “Promise me that if I’m forced to leave, you will watch over Rowena and protect her.” Kingsley appeared set to argue but Chadwick interrupted. “You must promise.”

  “Of course, my lord, I will continue to watch after Rowena. But you shouldn’t worry about your not being around to do it yourself. You have many good years ahead of you.”

  Chadwick thought about telling Kingsley the truth. Perhaps the butler would be on his side, help him stand up to Devlin, and assist Farrah. But what if Kingsley frowned upon his past activities and convinced Rowena to make him leave before his task was complete? No it was best to go at it alone. Besides with his secret weapon hidden away upstairs and his identity secured behind a mask, what could possibly go wrong?