Shannon Drake - Beguiled

“He made the agreement with Brian Stirling when I was just a lad and the girl a babe,” Mark said with a shrug. “I don’t know why. She’s not Lord Stirling’s child, rather his ward. I’ve always assumed there must be a skeleton in the closet somewhere.”

“Ah, yes. Illegitimacy, no doubt,” Patrick murmured.

Mark scowled at him. “Don’t think of starting such a rumor.”

Patrick laughed. “I promise to do nothing of the kind.” He grew serious. “Your impending marriage aside, I daresay we’re not going to have much of a reputation left soon. We didn’t even steal a piece of the girl’s jewelry.”

“Don’t worry. We’re going to O’Flannery’s.”

“And…?” Patrick inquired.

Mark grinned. “Why do you think I warned you against rumor? I intend to start one myself. Trust me—by nightfall, we shall be the most dangerous figures since the days of Jack the Ripper.”

THERE WAS NOTHING WRONG with her, Alexandra thought, but from the moment the carriage arrived at the castle, Shelby created such a stir that she was treated like fragile glass. At the gates, before they set off along the long winding drive to the castle, Shelby started shouting for help. Several members of the earl’s household rushed out, the countess among them, as they neared the front door.

“The police, my lady!” Shelby cried to the countess. “We must inform the police! We were held up by that despicable creature all the newspapers write of—the highwayman. I was knocked unconscious, and he kidnapped Miss Grayson. He is on the loose but cannot be far. The earl must be informed immediately. This is an outrage. And the poor girl! The gall. The utter gall. How dare he? Anyone in England should recognize the coat of arms on Lord Stirling’s carriage.”

The countess, Lady Camille, was instantly concerned, but thankfully, she had always been wise and levelheaded and not one to give in to the vapors. Before her marriage to the earl, she had been a commoner and had worked for a living, and she still gave time to the Egyptian department of the museum. She frowned, looking at Ally as Shelby distractedly helped her from the carriage.

“Shelby, please, calm down so we can ascertain all the facts. Ally, were you injured? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, perfectly fine.”

The earl, tall and exceedingly handsome, came up beside his wife. “You’re quite sure?” he asked, reaching out to touch her hair. “You’re wearing leaves.”

“I swear to you, I’m absolutely fine,” Ally said.

“I shall call the police,” Camille said, turning to head back up the steps to the main entrance to the castle. “Ally, come along. Fine or not, it must have been quite an ordeal. Brian, please, make her come in quickly.”

“Yes, in just a moment. Shelby, see that my horse is saddled and ready. If this fellow is on the roads now, I am going after him.”

“Oh, but you must not!” Ally protested. “He is—he is armed and dangerous.”

Brian Stirling watched Ally with an arched brow and a look that caused her to flush. As if the concept of danger would so much as make him hesitate when a member of his circle had been threatened.

“Come in. While my horse is being saddled, you must give me what details you can.” He offered her his arm and called over his shoulder, “Shelby—call three of the men to ride with me.”

She accepted his arm, and followed him into the castle. In the foyer, he called for his housekeeper, then led Ally on into the massive kitchen. It was a place she loved dearly. When she had come here as a child, she had often played in the kitchen. There was a huge hearth, and something was always cooking in a pot over the fire. These days it was something dreamed up by Theodore, the “new” cook, as he was called, despite the fact that he had been at the castle for ten years. He was a big man, with cheery red cheeks, and he always had something special and delicious waiting for her when she arrived.

“Theodore, if you please, a brandy for our young miss,” the earl requested.

Theodore, who was standing at the great chopping block, his large hands mincing herbs into amazingly small pieces, frowned, wiped his hands off on his apron and hurried to the cabinet.

In a moment, Ally found herself seated by the fire, the earl before her, taking her hands, staring into her eyes. “Now, slowly and completely. What happened?”

“Well, as Shelby said, we were waylaid by the highwayman.”

“And what did he want?”

Ally shook her head. “Actually…he took nothing. All he wanted was to search the carriage—and then to know who I was and where I was going.”

The earl looked very anxious for a moment. “And he didn’t hurt you in any way?”

“Not at all,” she murmured.

The earl stood, running his fingers through his hair. He was a tall man, well built, and though his title might well have brought him anything he desired without the least effort on his part, he was a scholar, a patron of antiquities and ready to delve into the day’s social issues. He had done his duty in the army, as well. Ally adored him, as she did Camille, and wondered how she had come by such amazing luck as to have them choose to take her beneath their wings. She wasn’t being as forthright as he deserved, and she knew it. Had the highwayman hurt her? Indeed, he had wounded both her pride and her ego. But…

She was loathe to say too much.

She realized that she did not want the man caught. She could not bear to imagine such a gallant thief hanging by the neck until dead.

“Honestly, my lord, there was not much to it. After the first few seconds, I knew I was in no danger.”

“The man is a criminal,” he said sternly.

“Yes, of course. But I wasn’t harmed in any way, and nothing was taken.” She hesitated. “I’m afraid that poor Shelby prides himself on his courage and ability, and he is truly a wonderful man and an expert guardian. He was ready to die for me. But the highwayman carries a long whip, and he used it to disarm Shelby. I imagine that he is as much embarrassed as anything else,” Ally said.

The countess came into the kitchen. “I have reached the police, and Inspector Turner is on his way. Sadly, he spoke quite honestly to me. There’s little he can do now. The ruffian and his fellows have surely long fled the scene. But, Ally, the inspector will be anxious to learn what he can from you about the man’s look and manner. So, now, please, tell me what happened.”

Ally looked at the earl. He gave her a slight smile. “I’m afraid that you’ll be repeating your adventure over and over, my dear.”

“Adventure?” Camille protested.

“Well, indeed, it seems that she is none the worse for it,” Brian said.

“That does not in the least alleviate what she must have endured,” Camille protested. A stray lock of hair fell across her forehead, and she looked at her husband indignantly, hands on her hips. “Well, the police will do what they can. It’s quite frightening, though.”

“Ally!”

“Ally!”

Two little voices called out to her. Brent and William, six and five, respectively, came running into the kitchen, skirting around their mother to throw themselves at Ally.

“Boys!” Camille protested.

“They’re fine,” Ally assured her, hugging the children, delighted with their cheerful smiles. They weren’t worried or asking her to repeat herself; they were just happy to see her, and she adored them. Brent, the future earl, was continually full of mischief, and William was delighted to follow along, a worthy companion for all his brother’s exploits. At the tender age of five, William had already announced that when the time was right, he would be heading off to the Americas to make his own fortune.