The Dark Regent Page 2

  Moments before she was expected downstairs, there was a knock at the door. Her back stiffened and she set her brush down slowly. “Yes?”

  “It is Celia, Miss Heathcote. I’ve come to help you with your dress.”

  Fawn threw the bolt. “Celia, thank heaven!” She laughed gratefully. “How did you know I was in dire need of assistance?”

  “I didn’t, miss.” The girl set a bag of beauty supplies on the dressing table. “The master bid me come. He said I was to work my magic to transform you into the most beautiful girl in London. My instructions are to take particular care in dressing your hair. Captain Wolfe says that next to your eyes, your hair is your best feature. I daresay your uncle means to play matchmaker tonight. Now, shall we see if I can make you the envy of all of the ladies at the party tonight?”

  Celia’s blue eyes sparkled as she opened the bag. Costly hair ornaments, pots of rouge for her lips and cheeks were produced and a black velvet ribbon for Fawn’s neck.

  “A gift from Captain Wolfe.”

  The maid set about capably dressing Fawn’s hair and when she was finished, Fawn did not recognize the glittering, mysterious girl in the mirror.

  Chapter Two

  LADY GILLIAN COLERIDGE approached the refreshment table, looking as cool and beautiful as a summer morning. Her escort, Albus Laleham followed, casting his eyes about eagerly.

  “This will do splendidly! Oh, what manner of fun we shall have in such company. I have every intention of recruiting several lovely young ladies into our Society. Speaking of which, have you seen our Captain Wolfe recently? He has missed the last two meetings. Don’t tell me he has lost his appetite for you so soon, my dear.”

  Lady Coleridge smoothed her gown. “Hardly. He’s obsessed with seducing a girl at the moment—dear Jocelyn’s niece, I believe. He was in his cups one night and became quite a bore on the subject. I suggested he bring her along to one of our gatherings to speed things along.”

  “And what was the captain’s response?” Albus Laleham dimpled waggishly.

  “He shut the idea down rather forcefully.” The lady accepted a glass of punch from her friend. “I gather the girl is an orphan, dependent on her aunt and frightened of pleasure. Crispin says she reads books.”

  Laleham shuddered. “She sounds a perfect pill. Poor, poor dear Crispin. I am certain I would not have the patience to forgo my pleasures for the sake of one frigid female. I can only imagine what Drake’s opinion of his star recruit is now.”

  “Don’t speak to me of Drake! He knew all about the infatuation before extending the invitation. His lordship’s principal concern now is that if Wolfe succeeds in seducing the girl, he could let some secrets slip whilst in the throes of passion. A clever girl could do a lot with that sort of classified information. The reputations of some very prominent gentlemen would be utterly destroyed if news of the Society got out.”

  “And some ladies,” murmured Laleham. “One mustn’t forget the ladies.”

  “Hush, here he comes,” Lady Coleridge said. Her eyes traveled to the tall striking man walking toward them. “We shall learn for ourselves if Wolfe understands the gravity of the situation.”

  Fawn shrank back behind the pillar as her uncle approached the gathering. She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop; she’d only come for a glass of punch and the pillar caught her attention. She’d been exploring the vestibule when she overheard her uncle’s name mentioned and remained where she was to hear what was said. Her heart lodged in her throat pounded fitfully, robbing her of breath. Cornered, she fell back into the shadows as Wolfe’s dark eyes scanned the vestibule.

  “Good evening, Lady Coleridge. You are looking lovely as always. Hello, Laleham. Did you just arrive?” He filled two glasses with punch.

  “We have, old boy, we have! And where is your lovely sister? Not at home with one of her headaches, I hope.”

  “Mrs. Heathcote is mired in conversation with a physician and another lady suffering from the same neurosis. I was dispatched to fetch refreshments.”

  “Like a magnificent Labrador retriever!” Lady Coleridge laughed gaily. “Laleham and I were just speculating on how you were getting along with dear Jocelyn’s niece.”

  “Tolerably well,” Fawn’s uncle replied. Though she could not see his face from her vantage point, he sounded on edge. “Miss Heathcote does not disturb me and I avoid her. We are an exceedingly contented family.”

  “Then you are quite cured of your obsession?” Albus Laleham asked. “I do hope so. It is our considered opinion that you should abandon the folly and return to the fold. With so much at stake, dear boy, you are making your friends nervous.” His laugh rang false.

  “I regret the drink that led to that indiscretion, Laleham. I regret even more trusting the confidence to my friend here. Gillian’s concern is misplaced.”

  “I am very glad to hear it!” Laleham clapped the taller man on the back. “Then we shall expect you at the next meeting of the Society?”

  Fawn strained to hear his answer.

  “I have Jocelyn’s health to consider. She is in a cooler frame of mind when I am at home, therefore I won’t be in attendance. As for the Society, I’m not interested in gossip. I’ll not speak of our activities to anyone. You may be assured of that.”

  Fawn leaned against the pillar, weak with relief as Wolfe stalked off. Lady Coleridge and Albus Laleham followed soon after and she was free to come out of her hiding place, the glass of untouched punch still clutched in her hand.

  She set it on the refreshment table, composed her features and scanned the room for her aunt. As Captain Wolfe said, Jocelyn was engaged in conversation. Fawn was reluctant to disturb her but she had right to know the sort of company her brother was keeping. Fawn had not liked the change in Lady Coleridge when Captain Wolfe came near. It was clear her ladyship meant to make a conquest of him. Jocelyn should be put on her guard.

  Determined to do just that, Fawn crossed the room with singular purpose. She did not see Wolfe moving toward her with equal determination. Tall and imposing, her uncle stepped in front of her, his expression unreadable. “You have decided to join us, I see.”

  Fawn flushed but met his eye. “I wish a word with my aunt. Will you let me pass?”

  His eyes darkened and he took her hand. “A dance first and then I’ll let you go.”

  Her mouth trembled as he led her to the middle of the dance floor in full view of the assembly. “Another lie,” she murmured. “You will never let me go.”

  “You understand at last,” he replied in a low voice that was like cream. “I will never give up until you admit me to your bed. Open your door tonight and we shall both have some peace.”

  Fawn’s lashes hung with tears. “There will be no peace for me if I consent to such wickedness.”

  Crispin Wolfe’s hand pressed harder against the small of her back. “You are so very beautiful. I would let you go if I could but I am enslaved by your charms.”

  She burned with humiliation and dropped her gaze. “Stop,” she whispered.

  “You must look at me,” he ordered softly. “Pretend all is as it should be between a niece and her uncle. They are watching us.”

  It was true. The eyes of Aunt Jocelyn, Lady Coleridge and Albus Laleham were fixed on the two of them.

  Her uncle said through lips that barely moved: “I like your hair like that.”

  Celia had arranged Fawn’s dark brown hair in a cascade of beribboned curls that fell down her back. The gown was exquisite though the bust was a fraction too tight. Her breasts mounded over the lace attracting the wrong sort of attention. Wolfe’s eyes were on her cleavage. Fawn wondered if her aunt had purposely altered her measurements when she ordered the dress. Not out of malice but out of zeal to attract her niece a suitor.

  If so, the gambit failed. The only man to approach her all evening was Captain Wolfe. It was as if the others had been warned off from even asking her to dance.

  Fawn snapped a look at her uncle. “What have y
ou said to the young gentlemen here,” she demanded. “Not one will dare come near me.”

  Crispin lifted his broad shoulders and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I might have issued a warning or two—nothing that would prevent a stout heart from claiming a dance at the risk of my displeasure.”

  “You had no right!” she gasped.

  “On the contrary, I have absolute authority over you until you reach the age of twenty-one. Are you familiar with the term ‘regent’?”

  Her heart stopped. “A regent is appointed to administer a state when the ruler is a minor. What has that to do with me?”

  “Under the law, you are a minor until you turn twenty-one or marry, whichever comes first. So, I’ve appointed myself your regent—a more fitting title than guardian for I mean to rule over every facet of your life for the next three years.” His glinting blue eyes bore into hers. “Did you imagine I would allow Jocelyn to snatch you away from me so easily? You will not marry anyone until you admit me to your bed and this blasted fever is done with!”

  The blood left her face. Fawn jerked out of his arms just as the music stopped. She was shaking violently.

  “You are unwell,” Crispin said coolly. “Allow me to escort you home.”

  “No!” She collected herself when she realized Jocelyn was watching. “Thank you, uncle, but I would not deprive my aunt of your company. Please excuse me.”

  She spun on her heel and walked rapidly away from the dance floor, seeking the cool dark quiet of the balcony to think.

  §

  CONVERSING WITH Mrs. Castlewaite did not allow for the quiet reflection she sought, but the lady did her best to comfort Fawn.

  “I would not go so far as to call one’s guardian a regent; however, it is not far off the mark. Your uncle has the law on his side but that is not a calamity, surely.”

  The lady gazed at Fawn inquiringly.

  She twisted the handkerchief the lady had loaned her to dry her eyes. Mrs. Castlewaite had found Fawn sobbing on a bench and assumed she was heartbroken over a young man. Fawn poured out her tale of not being permitted to marry if Captain Wolfe had anything to say about it. There was no young man and there never would be now as there would be no marriage!

  “It is a dreadful shock, Mrs. Castlewaite. I was not so restricted when my aunt had sole charge of me.”

  “But your aunt has a brother, my dear, and that has changed everything. Captain Wolfe is the head of the household now and you are his responsibility. Even though you don’t agree with his edict against marriage, I’m afraid he has the last word on the subject.”

  Fawn dabbed her eyes. There was so much more she wanted to say but Mrs. Castlewaite was an acquaintance of Jocelyn’s and could not be trusted with her secret.

  “I must say,” the lady said with an approving grunt, “I did not expect your uncle to take his role so seriously. He is not a tender man from all accounts. Few men are who survived the carnage of that bloody battle, and Captain Wolfe came away more damaged than most. He is a dark horse that one. I advised Mrs. Heathcote to think twice before taking in a soldier who was not yet thirty and inclined to brood. Even if he is her brother. Men like that are difficult to control.”

  Fawn handed back the handkerchief and managed a smile. “Perhaps Aunt Jocelyn can persuade my uncle to relent when a serious offer is made for my hand.”

  “There’s the spirit! Until then you can sleep at night knowing there is a man whose soft feelings for you will keep you from making a grave mistake. Marry in haste, repent at leisure, as the saying goes. Speaking as a woman who married at the age of sixteen, I can attest to its truth.”

  Mrs. Castlewaite winked and left Fawn to summon the courage to return to the ballroom.

  “YOU HAVE been gone a long while.”

  Crispin Wolfe came up behind her to stand at her elbow, effectively preventing her escape. The crush of onlookers standing around the perimeter of the room made movement impossible. Crispin pressed nearer. Oddly, though she knew it couldn’t be so, Fawn felt every eye was on them and knew what her uncle wanted with her.

  “I have been talking with Mrs. Castlewaite about the dark regent who means to ruin me,” she said. Her voice shook with emotion. “The poor deluded woman assumes you have my best interests at heart. I couldn’t tell her the truth ... but I can tell my aunt.”

  “She won’t believe you.”

  She lifted her eyes to her uncle’s handsome face. He bent to hear her over the din of music and conversation. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she felt his warm breath on her exposed bosom.

  “She will when she reads about the Society in the morning newspapers,” she whispered.

  Her heart was pounding. Crispin’s head snapped back. For a second, Fawn thought he might strike her. His expression was one of pure hatred.

  “Do as you must,” he ground out. “One day you will regret it.”

  §

  THE DARK REGENT’S threat was a hollow one. Fawn could not have been happier in the weeks that followed. Her uncle’s nocturnal petitions to be admitted to her chambers had abruptly ceased. Fawn had vanquished the loathsome Captain Wolfe without lifting a finger! Proving that she was the mistress of her life and her so-called regent would do well to remember it.

  Aunt Jocelyn was away on another round of afternoon visits. Fawn had not been asked to accompany her. She was resolved not to feel slighted, though her aunt’s manner had been cold of late. Jocelyn’s spells had increased in frequency; Fawn was sure it was the malady that made her short-tempered. She took care not to aggravate the lady, but instead had a tea tray and a good fire waiting for when Aunt Jocelyn returned.

  The sky was purple with late afternoon shadows when the carriage pulled up. Aunt Jocelyn appeared in the sitting room just as Fawn poured the tea.

  “It is too late for that,” she said, waving the cup away. “Fetch me a glass of sherry.”

  Fawn set down the tea and rose to the sideboard to fill a small glass. “Did you have a pleasant afternoon, aunt?’

  Jocelyn touched her hair and glanced about her impatiently. “Not particularly, no. I was subjected to the most tedious conversation with Mrs. Castlewaite. She recounted a tale of finding you crying at the Nettleton’s party. You claimed your uncle would not permit you to marry until you are twenty-one. Mrs. Castlewaite was deeply concerned that my brother was being too strict and I ought to get to the bottom of it.”

  Her hand shook as she handed her aunt the sherry. “I am sorry, Aunt Jocelyn. I didn’t like to bother you with it.”

  “Then it is true that Captain Wolfe will prevent you from marrying?”

  Fawn sensed a trap but was too witless to see her way around it. “He said as much, yes, but I believe he has since changed his mind.”

  Jocelyn’s lips went white. “What reason did he give?”

  Now it was Fawn’s turn to lose color. “Mrs. Castlewaite opinion is that he is taking his responsibilities as guardian too seriously.”

  “Guardian. How odd. The word she used with me was regent.”

  Fawn met Jocelyn’s eyes anxiously. “It was all a misunderstanding. My uncle was only trying to explain the law to me and I assumed he meant I would not marry without his say-so.”

  Jocelyn sipped from her sherry without further comment.

  Her silence was unsettling.

  Chapter Three

  THERE IT WAS AGAIN.

  She hadn’t been mistaken. The scrape of the key in the lock jolted Fawn awake in an instant, her heart pounding in her throat. She bolted upright just as the door swung wide and she blinked in the glare from his lamp.

  “Good, you are awake.”

  Crispin’s voice was perfectly neutral as though he wanted to talk over a minor domestic matter when Fawn knew he had something far more evil in mind.

  “How did you get in,” she gasped. Her mouth dried.

  “I have been given free reign over the house and can enter any room I choose. Mrs. O’Brien handed over the key at m
y request.”

  The housekeeper likely had no idea what Captain Wolfe intended when she gave him the key to Fawn’s bedchamber. He wore a brocade dressing gown and nothing underneath. Her mind scrambled for a possible means of escape. There was no hope of fighting him off and no one would hear her cries for help. Her heart thudded in her chest.

  “What time is it? Where is Aunt Jocelyn?”

  “At a guess, I would say it is three o’clock in the morning. I restrained myself for as long as I could. As for Jocelyn, she took herself off to bed immediately after dinner, nursing another one of her headaches. She is trying to make a lapdog out of me and is angered when I refuse to comply.”

  “I should see to her.” Fawn half rose from the bed but Crispin sat down on the edge of the mattress, trapping her between the wall and his broad shoulders.

  He set the candle on the nightstand. “She doesn’t want you, Fawn. It is me she wants at her beck and call. She’s taken a dose of laudanum in hot milk and won’t wake up for many hours. We will not be disturbed.” His eyes were unreadable. “We have much to discuss.”

  She turned her face to the wall, pulling the comforter tightly about her chin. “It is far too late to discuss anything, uncle. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Why do you persist in calling me uncle?” His voice dropped to a low rumble and she felt a gentle pull as he ran his fingers through her hair. “You are no man’s idea of a niece.”

  Fawn twisted to face him, to appeal to his sense of decency. “Nevertheless, you are my aunt’s brother, my uncle by marriage, and my guardian. Take care not to abuse the claim you have on me and the dependence I have on you.”

  “Abuse it?” he repeated, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Fawn, it is that very dependence that compelled me to speak to you tonight and without a moment’s delay. My sister has come to a decision. She wants you removed from the house as soon as it can be arranged. She’s written to her friends with the aim of engaging you as a governess in one of their households or elsewhere.”