The Dark Regent Read online

  “I tried to be. My aunt had a nervous disposition. I’m afraid I was often a disappointment.”

  “Impossible,” Wilfred said with a smile. “You are too splendid to disappoint anyone.”

  Albus Laleham piped up. “You must tell us all about yourself, Fawn. I am vastly interested in the comings and goings of young ladies. How do you like living in solitary confinement with your uncle? I should think you must find it tiresome after the liveliness of London.”

  “Not at all. I like it very much, Mr. Laleham. I am quite content.”

  Laleham’s brows lifted. “Even after your aunt’s death? I should’ve thought you’d be sunk in grief. Naturally, I am delighted you are not.” He exchanged a glance with Lady Gillian.

  “Albus, I am astonished you found the courage to tear yourself away from London at all,” Crispin interrupted curtly. “I believe you regard country air as bad for one’s health, don’t you?”

  Fawn was grateful for the change in topic, though Crispin seemed not to notice her distress.

  Laleham waggled his eyebrows. “One must go where one is invited and dear Gillian has been most kind. I must at least appear to be happy or be cast as an ungrateful wretch. Of course, I am desperate to return to civilization as soon as possible.”

  They all laughed and Corporal Jameson held Fawn’s eye for a fraction longer than necessary. She blushed, flattered by his gracious manner toward her and flicked a glance at Wolfe. He appeared to be utterly disinterested in the blossoming friendship.

  Dinner ended and Lady Coleridge claimed Wolfe as an escort to the drawing room. Mr. Laleham tried to claim Fawn but was intercepted by Corporal Jameson. He offered her his arm, but instead of following the others to the drawing room, the corporal led her through the French doors to the garden.

  “I agree with you about liking this place very much,” Wilfred said. “I could imagine myself very content here. In London, we are sorely constrained by manner and convention, don’t you find?” He smiled genially. “It is expected you will grieve an aunt who did not love you. I venture to guess that you are also expected to be grateful to live with an uncle you barely know. Lady Coleridge has filled me in on your history,” he added with a sheepish grin.

  “Captain Wolfe has been generous but I’m afraid my time at Hawkcliffe Hall must come to an end. With the death of my aunt, her brother’s obligation to me has ended as well. I cannot trespass on his good will any longer. I must make my way in the world.”

  Jameson straightened. “Good God! I assumed your aunt left you an income to live on until you were married. Perhaps that was her intention but she died before she could make the arrangements?”

  Fawn was grateful for the low light that hid her embarrassment. “It is unlikely, I’m afraid. I don’t fault her for doing as she did. She had her reasons. Regardless, I mustn’t dwell on what might have been and accept matters as they are. Captain Wolfe has said I am welcome to stay but I would rather return to London and have my independence.”

  He boldly took her hand and squeezed it. “You are so brave and lovely, Miss Heathcote. If you will permit me, I should like very much to call on you when you are settled in London. Life could hold so much for both of us if we allow it.”

  She glanced at the French doors, wondering if Wolfe cared that she was without a chaperone. “You are very kind, Corporal Jameson. I would have to seek Captain Wolfe’s permission. I hope you understand.”

  “Of course.” Wilfred smiled bashfully. “You will also want to consult Lady Coleridge as they are going to be married. Fair warning, her ladyship is my second cousin and she is obligated to sing my praises. I’ve already expressed my admiration of you and my cousin is determined to play Cupid.”

  Wilfred was laughing but Fawn’s blood froze in her veins. “I-I don’t understand. Who is to be married?”

  His laugh faded and was replaced with dismay. “I’m sorry! I assumed you knew. Lady Coleridge and Captain Wolfe are engaged. They haven’t announced it yet but they will when the captain is out of mourning. Lady Coleridge told me all about it on the train. The report is a true one. She wouldn’t speak so frankly if there wasn’t an offer from Wolfe.”

  “No, no, she wouldn’t. I expect Wolfe hasn’t found the opportunity to give me the happy news.” She lifted her head and managed a brilliant smile. “I am pleased for him. I don’t think the captain has known much happiness in his life.”

  The smile returned to Wilfred’s lips. “May I speak candidly, Miss Heathcote? Is there any hope of convincing you to join us when we return to London? I am sure Lady Coleridge would love to have a young female companion on the train. Albus is a bore and I’m too stuffy for my cousin’s tastes. She wants to talk Paris fashion and the latest society gossip and I yawn through both subjects.”

  “You are very kind but I haven’t made arrangements,” she said, deeply flustered. “I’m still in mourning.”

  “Of course and no one expects you to be seen much in society. As to the arrangements—it is all arranged! You will stay with Lady Coleridge and she will see to everything. Will you come?”

  Fawn managed to nod and smile even though her heart was breaking.

  “ALBUS, I KNEW I couldn’t trust you to hold your tongue,” Gillian chided. “You know I have plans for Fawn. Do you imagine I want a girl draped in black crepe for a companion? I am delighted that Jocelyn’s niece is willing to be sensible and here you are scolding her into donning widow’s weeds!”

  Laleham looked sheepish, shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile at Crispin. “I couldn’t help myself, old boy. Your niece is a delectable little crumpet. Widow’s weeds would help curb my feverish imagination. How on earth did you resist her all these months? My nerves would be shattered if I’d had to live with that temptation under my roof. You must be greatly relieved by Gillian’s news.”

  “What news might that be?” Crispin’s temper clouded black as thunder.

  Gillian flashed an angry look at Albus. “I was going to tell you the in the morning, darling, after Fawn has had a chance to get to know us better.”

  She glanced over her shoulder to confirm that they were alone. Fawn was still on the patio with Corporal Jameson.

  “Now don’t be angry, Crispin, but my young cousin has expressed his admiration for Miss Heathcote. To put it plainly, Jameson has asked me to invite Fawn to my house in London. He would like to become better acquainted with her. I was sure you wouldn’t object or I would have asked your permission. If Fawn agrees, she will travel with me as her chaperone. She’ll be quite safe, I assure you.”

  His jaw muscles were tight. Crispin had not anticipated Fawn would be whisked away from Hawkcliffe Hall so soon. Moreover, he had not intended for her to marry. What he had hoped would happen between them—he now saw was impossible. Crispin wanted her to love him so much that she would give herself to him without reserve, without consequence.

  Impossible.

  Fawn wanted to be loved and she deserved nothing less. Crispin’s heart was a block of stone—however, he had not expected to feel—so violently feel sick to his stomach at the thought of another man touching her. He had not expected to feel anything at all when the moment came, except glad that she would be gone from his sight.

  “Nothing is decided about Fawn’s future and I object to you springing this plan on me, Gillian.”

  Lady Coleridge stared at the raven-haired Crispin Wolfe, pondering his reaction to her news and his overall demeanor where the girl was concerned.

  “Forgive me, Wolfe, but this proprietary air toward Miss Heathcote smacks of jealousy. I cannot accept any other explanation for your cold attitude toward my proposition. With such limited opportunities, marriage to a respectable man could be Fawn’s only chance for happiness.”

  Crispin stood at the sideboard and filled his glass with whiskey. “Shall we leave it up to her to decide what will make her happy?”

  “What an intriguing response, my dear boy. You are usually more pragmatic than that when it com
es to the fairer sex. I feel there must be more to the story than meets the eye,” said Laleham with cunning in his eyes.

  “Enlighten me,” Crispin said coldly.

  “Miss Heathcote said you were with her at the time of dear Jocelyn’s death. At least, that’s what I’ve heard and what reason would the girl have to lie? However, it was my understanding that you were seen leaving your sister’s house shortly before her body was found.”

  “I was with Fawn at my club. We were traveling by train to Stokesbay. Jocelyn was to join us at Hawkcliffe Hall but she didn’t arrive. That is all there is to the story.”

  “I’ve had it on good authority,” said Albus, “that you were quite furious with the doorman at the Regency. I believe he insulted the girl in some way and you became enraged with the man. I heard the story from a gentleman who was in the lobby at the time. Apparently, the violence of your anger was more in line with a lover’s than an irate uncle.”

  “Perhaps you’d better speak your mind, Laleham. I’m in no humor for double talk tonight.”

  Gillian broke in soothingly. “Of course not, darling. Albus is a fool; you know better than to take him seriously. But my love, you must be sensible for the girl’s sake. After we are married and on our honeymoon, what will become of her? Will she stay here with no one for company but that girl from the village? She must have someone to take charge of her. Surely the best candidate is Corporal Jameson. He’ll make a girl with her prospects, in her position, a fine husband.”

  Wolfe stiffened and tossed his drink down his throat. “She may go or stay as she wishes. Her plans have nothing to do with me.”

  “What plans might those be, sir?”

  He turned and found Fawn standing at the door. Jameson stood behind her, looking pleased and arrogant. Fawn’s complexion was pale as cold milk.

  Crispin smoothed his face of expression. “Lady Coleridge has offered to take you to London when she returns. I am not opposed to the idea if it is what you wish.”

  She didn’t look at him as she entered the room. He strove to read her thoughts. “Corporal Jameson has just been relaying some news to me as well. He says you are engaged to be married to her ladyship. Permit me to offer my congratulations.”

  Wolfe’s stomach twisted. This cold Fawn Heathcote was not the girl he’d lured from London. She was indifferent to him and it was his great fear that Corporal Jameson was responsible for that indifference.

  “Thank you, Fawn. And I hope you will accept mine in return for the new life you are about to embark upon.”

  He bowed stiffly and turned to pour himself another whiskey. “Jameson, can I offer you one?”

  The corporal accepted and their conversation turned to the topic of London society weddings slated for the spring.

  Albus and Gillian were right, thought Crispin with bitter reflection. Fawn’s reputation was in peril living with him and her future was intolerable otherwise. He could not protect her from predatory men if she left Hawkcliffe Hall. The vultures were already circling. Laleham had become fixated with her, no doubt weighing up her vulnerability—it was clear he did not regard Wolfe as an obstacle. Fawn’s hopes depended on Gillian’s willingness to vouchsafe the girl’s safety if only to please Wolfe. But Gillian had an unpredictable temperament. Laleham or any other member of the Society could persuade Lady Coleridge to drop her guard. Marriage to Jameson was the best chance Fawn had at a respectable life in the long run.

  She stood off to one side, pretending to be absorbed in examining a painting while the conversation rolled over her. Wolfe knew her expressions all too well from months of observation. Fawn was lost in thought.

  “I suppose we’ve both got what we wanted,” he said in an undertone, coming up behind her. “Corporal Jameson will make a good match.”

  Fawn turned and she met his eyes steadily. “He is the kindest of men.”

  Wolfe scowled. “Even the kindest of men can have feet of clay. Do not make the mistake of confiding in him what you suffered in my company. He will fault you and hold me blameless.”

  “So you admit that I have suffered,” she retorted quietly.

  “I will admit to anything you like but it won’t change the outcome if you repeat the tale to Jameson. He will not forgive you for allowing me to take liberties with you.”

  “I was given no choice!”

  “He will not believe you. Listen to me. No matter how tempted you are to speak, no matter what he leads you to believe about the strength of his love, do not tell him the truth about you and me. He is a proud young man. His love will not endure.”

  Her beautiful green eyes narrowed. “It is not my reputation you are eager to protect but your own. What would Lady Coleridge think, not to mention Scotland Yard, if they learned the truth? I am not the unbiased witness I claimed to be. I protected you out of love and I will continue to do so for that reason alone. Knowing that—how I feel about you—you would still see me married to another man?”

  “I would, and gladly. One day, when you are bouncing your baby on your knee in that home you are so eager to have, you will recall this moment and realize how deeply I must have loved you to let you go.”

  Wolfe left her without a backward glance. His pulse was pounding in his ears and the muscles in his jaw twitched as he fought for self-control.

  “I hope I’m not the only one eager for some amusement,” he cried as he approached the group. Wolfe swirled the whiskey in his glass. “Well? Are we to play cards or do you mean to gossip all night?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  FAWN ROSE earlier than usual, before sunrise, and dressed in the loveliest of the day dresses that Crispin had given her. Corporal Jameson had made no attempt to hide his admiration and noble intentions toward her. A dream she had not thought possible a month ago was suddenly in her grasp.

  But for all that, she had slept poorly, unable to forget Captain Wolfe’s words last night. He made no mention of them when she bid him good night, and in his coldness toward her, Crispin gave no sign that he’d meant what he’d said.

  One day she would know how deeply he loved her.

  What had he meant by that? Her heart was not hard enough for cynicism. She would take him at his word. Was he trying to tell her he loved her? Then why not simply say the words without mystery?

  These questions and more drove her out of the house. Her intention was to walk the cliff path but the wind cut bitterly across the headland so she opted for the shelter of the garden instead, accessing it through the courtyard. Passing the stables, Fawn heard a man’s voice and instantly recognized it as Crispin’s. After a moment’s debate, raging curiosity got the better of her and she approached, finding him saddling his horse.

  Her heart jumped a little, catching him in this unguarded moment—before he had the chance to hide behind his mask of arrogance. Crispin was talking to his horse like an old friend with a look of lonely discontent on his face.

  “Good morning, Captain.”

  He spun, glowered when his eyes met hers and then turned back to his work. “What are you doing up and about so early? You mustn’t show Jameson eyes that are ringed with dark circles.”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, venturing further into the stable. “I have a great deal on my mind.”

  When Crispin didn’t answer, Fawn affected not to care, rubbing the horse’s nose. “What are you doing up so early, Captain Wolfe?”

  “I decided on a gallop across the headland before breakfast. You are not the only one who couldn’t sleep last night.”

  “What kept you awake?” She held her breath and fixed her eyes on the horse.

  Crispin’s movements slowed. “The inevitability of our parting.” His mouth was grim and he avoided her eye. “The sensation I have realizing I will never see you again is not a pleasant one. It will take some getting used to, this wrenching in my gut.”

  A low buzzing sounded in her ears as her blood rose. “You said once you didn’t want to be parted from me.”

 
“I said many things. They were true statements that were beyond my power to enforce. I should have held my tongue.”

  “You said you loved me.” She barely urged the words from her lips, her courage failing. “I’m not going to ask you if you meant it—I know you did. Why say it now when there is no hope for either of us?”

  There was a long pause. “I can speak the truth,” Crispin said haltingly, “but I have no power over the circumstances we find ourselves in, Fawn.”

  “You could not be so cruel,” she said brokenly. “You insisted on my love and in the hour I give it—you propose to Lady Coleridge!”

  His sapphire eyes flashed. “Yes, I did—and I would do more besides to keep you safe! If Scotland Yard discovers a romantic relationship between us, the alibi you gave me will be called into question—bad news for me, but even worse news for you. If I am found guilty, you could be charged as an accomplice to murder. Lady Coleridge has been a friend that I trusted on another occasion to cover for me. I asked her to marry me to put as distance between you and I as possible. Gillian understands what’s at stake. Unless you relish having your name attached to a man headed for the gallows, I would leave it alone.”

  His face was like granite, but his eyes radiated emotion. Thoughts and feelings he had long-suppressed were boiling to the surface. The physical passion Crispin felt for her was only a disguise for something much deeper.

  She saw it now so clearly. Crispin Wolfe was in love with her and had been for some time. Love he did not want to feel—love he had tried to corrupt into something cheap and ignoble.

  “What are you afraid of?” she pleaded softly.

  He stopped what he was doing, his hands resting against the leather saddle, his shoulders and chest rising and falling with emotion.

  “I’m afraid of loving you,” he said intensely, “because I could love you. I could fall in love with you and that terrifies me. So now that you have your pound of flesh, get out. Marry Jameson and pray to God that we never see each other again. Get out, Fawn. Do as I say. Leave me.”