Ann Lethbridge - The Gamekeeper's Lady

Charlie’s gaze hardened. ‘Don’t bother. I don’t need your kind of favours.’

‘What if it had been you she’d lured into the library? Would you have married her, knowing she trapped you?’

Charlie curled his lip. ‘Come on, Robin, we both know there isn’t a female alive who can lure you if you don’t want to go. But if it had been me, I would have offered for her immediately. It would be my duty to the family name.’

Robert swallowed the bile rising in his throat. ‘I won’t be blackmailed into wedding a scheming little baggage.’

‘Marriage wouldn’t hurt you one bit.’

A sick feeling roiled around in Robert’s gut. ‘I’m not getting married to a woman who wanted my brother.’

Charlie looked at him coldly over the rim of his brandy glass. ‘Then you shouldn’t have kissed her.’

‘Damn it.’ Robert felt like howling. ‘She kissed me.’

‘You’ve been going to hell for years. Marriage will do you good. It will please Father.’

Robert’s gaze narrowed. He suddenly saw it all. The glimmer of regret in Charlie’s eyes gave him away. ‘You have already discussed this with Father. This is a common front, isn’t it?’ He balled his fists. ‘I ought to beat you to a pulp. How dare you and Father play with my life?’

Charlie’s mouth tightened. ‘No, Robert. You did this all by yourself. Even though I agree with you, it was her bloody fault, you ought to offer for the girl or you’ll leave great blot on the family name.’

‘That’s all you bloody well care about these days.’

‘It’s my job.’

They used to be friends. Now they were worse than strangers. Because Charlie disapproved of everything Robert did.

Robert stared at his older brother. Older by five minutes. Three hundred seconds that gave Charlie everything and left Robert with a small monthly allowance courtesy of his father. And because he’d thought to do his brother a favour, thought it might restore their old easy fun-loving companionship, he’d been cast adrift on a sea of the last thing he wanted: matrimony.

Hot fury roiled in his gut, spurted through his veins, ran in molten rivers until his vision blazed red. ‘No. I won’t do it. Not for Father and not for you. She made her bed, let her lie on it.’

‘Don’t be a fool. Lullington won’t forget this. You’ll never be able to show your face in town again.’

‘I’m a Mountford. With Father’s support…’

Charlie shook his head. ‘He’s furious.’

Bloody hell. Cast out from society, perhaps for all time? It wouldn’t be the first time the ton had discarded one of their own. Robert felt sick. ‘He’ll come around. He has to. Mother will make him see reason.’

‘Never at a loss, are you, Robin?’ Charlie frowned. ‘But I won’t have you upsetting our mother. I’ll talk to Father. Convince him somehow. It’s going to cost a lot of money and if I do this you have to swear to mend your ways.’

Ice filled Robert’s veins. He wanted to smack the disapproving look off his brother’s face. ‘What makes you a saint?’

Charlie gave him a pained look. ‘I’m not.’

‘I don’t suppose you could lend me a pony until quarter day. I’ve some debts pressing.’ Inwardly, he groaned. At least one of which was Lullington’s. Not to mention a diamond pin to present to Maggie.

‘Damn it, Robert.’ He got up and went to a chest in the corner. He unlocked it and pulled out a leather purse. ‘Fifty guineas. If that’s not enough I can give you a draft for up to a thousand. But that’s all.’

‘A thousand?’ Robert whistled. ‘You really are dibs in tune.’

‘I don’t have time to spend it.’ He looked weary, weighed down. Robert didn’t envy him his position of heir one little bit.

Sure his problems were solved, Robert grinned. ‘You need a holiday from all this.’ He waved a hand at the cluttered desk. ‘Want to exchange places again?’

‘You will not,’ a voice thundered. ‘And nor will you give him any money.’

Father. Robert whipped his head around. The brown-eyed silver-haired gentleman framed in the doorway in sartorial splendour glared as Robert rose to his feet. Rigid with anger and pride, Alfred, his Grace the Duke of Stantford, locked his gaze on Charlie. ‘He has brought dishonour to our name. He is no longer welcome in my house.’

Robert felt the blood drain from his face, from his whole body. He couldn’t draw breath as the words echoed in his head. While he and Father didn’t always see eye to eye, he’d never expected this.

Charlie’s eyes widened. ‘Father, it is not entirely Robert’s fault.’

Mealy-mouthed support at best, but then that was Charlie these days. ‘The woman—’

‘Enough,’ Father roared. ‘I heard you. You are not satisfied with being a parasite on this family, a dissolute wastrel and a libertine. No. It’s not enough that you drag our name through the mud. You want your brother’s title.’

The taste of ashes filled Robert’s mouth. ‘Your Grace, no,’ he choked out, ‘it was a jest.’

Stantford’s lip curled, but beneath the bluster he seemed to age from sixty to a hundred in the space a heartbeat. In his eyes, Robert saw fear.

‘You think I don’t know what you are about?’ the old man whispered. ‘An identical brother? I always knew you’d be trouble. You almost succeeded in getting him killed once, but I won’t let it happen again.’

Nausea rolled in Robert’s gut. The room spun as pain seared his heart. ‘I would never harm my brother.’

‘Father,’ Charlie said. ‘I wanted to join the army. I convinced Robert to take my place.’

The duke’s lip curled. ‘I expected he needed a lot of convincing.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Robert said. ‘I thought it was a great lark. How would I know what a mess Waterloo would be? Napoleon was a defeated general.’

They’d all thought that and Charlie, desperate to join the army from the time he could talk, saw it as a chance to fulfil his dream despite Father’s refusal.

Robert had avoided the family while he played at being Charlie for weeks before Waterloo. Had a grand old time. Until he’d felt Charlie’s physical pain in his own body. He’d known something was wrong. But when the lists came out announcing Robert Mountford’s death and the family started to grieve, they thought he’d gone mad. He’d insisted on going to the site of the battle. When he finally found Charlie, one of the many robbed of his clothes and out of his head in a fever, the truth had to come out. After that, Father had refused to have anything to do with Robert. Until today.

‘You are not my son,’ the duke said.

Charlie stared at Father. ‘No,’ he whispered. ‘You are going too far. I won’t let you do this. Robert will marry the girl. Won’t you?’

Reeling, Robert almost said yes. His spine stiffened. He would not be blackmailed, forced into a mould by his father or anyone else, especially not Miss Penelope Frisken. ‘No. I did not seduce her and I won’t accept the blame.’

‘You idiot,’ Charlie hissed.

‘I want that cur out of my house,’ the duke commanded. ‘I won’t see the name of Mountford blackened any further by this wastrel. He’ll sponge on me no longer.’

Sponge. Was that how he saw it? Without his allowance, he wouldn’t be able to pay his debts. Any of them. He had debts of honour due on quarter day, as well as several tradesmen expecting their due. He’d gone a little deeper than he should have this month, but then he’d expected to come about. And there was always his allowance.

‘You can’t do this.’

His father glared. ‘Watch me.’

A horrid suspicion crept into his mind. Was this Lulling ton’s plan all along? He was clever enough. Devious enough.