Chapter Seventeen
L issa stared at the man who was now her husband in absolute disbelief. First, he was middle class. Then he was a peer. Now he was both? “A shopkeeper?”
“Yes. My mother kept a shop much like the one we visited in the village of Talley on the Green, only hers was in the village of Intervale. My father was traveling through and stopped to buy a gift for a woman he was hoping to court.” He waved his hand. “It’s a long story, and my mother tells it much better than I. Suffice it to say, despite turning him down twice, she finally accepted his proposal.” He spread his arms out. “So you see? You do not have to worry. My parents will welcome you, and my father will especially because he’d given up on me ever marrying.”
She could admit, if only to herself, that it did make the thought of meeting Anthony’s parents a bit more bearable, but just a bit. “Is there other information I should be made aware of before we continue to your parents’ home?”
He sobered instantly. “Yes. I told you about the factory accident, so you know what happened. My father gets around on a wooden piece, which is not quite as distracting as my mother’s face. She has many scars, much like those from smallpox. When people first meet her, they tend to stare, so if you can avoid doing that, it would go a long way in her accepting you.”
Immediately, the tension left her. She could imagine the stares the woman must get. “I can do that.”
He looked at her a long moment before nodding. “Yes, you can. Now, we need to get there as soon as possible to confer with my father.”
He was right, of course. Even now the king’s life could be in danger. “Then lead the way.” She held her hand out for him to proceed.
Turning his horse around, he set a fast pace once again.
She didn’t mind the pace. Riding slow always made her uneasy, as if she were easy prey, which she would be. Back in France, it was those very people that she’d robbed.
It didn’t take long before the forest gave way to rolling hills, far different from those closer to London. As they topped one hill, Anthony slowed to a stop.
She rode up next to him to see a large, sprawling mansion. She knew it was Narborough Park. At the thought of Anthony growing up in such a place, her hands began to sweat. She’d looted places like that, not lived in them.
As if he sensed her unease, he set his hand over hers on the reins. “We’re almost there. Don’t let the size bother you. They only use one wing now.” He let go. “Come. I’ll race you to the gate.”
Before she could argue, he was off. Immediately, she set her horse to a gallop and gained on him. Just when she thought she was going to win, he pulled ahead before slowing the horse as they passed through the open main gate.
She pointed at him, not willing to look down the drive. “That wasn’t fair. You had a head start.”
He grinned. “Yes, I did. Now let’s get to the house so we can solve this major dilemma.”
Very much aware that he had called the race to distract her, she turned to face the massive stone building. Maybe they’d send her around back to the servants’ entrance.
As soon as they arrived, two stablemen came to take their horses, both assuring Anthony they would be well taken care of.
He took her hand and walked her up the five steps to the large wooden door, which opened before he could knock.
“Anthony!” A woman no taller than herself in a blue muslin dress ran out and embraced him, making him stumble back a few steps.
He held her close before setting her back. That was when Lissa saw the deep divot marks on her beautiful face and knew it was his mother. She appeared to have once been blonde, but there was much white in her hair. Her face had few wrinkles and her nose was turned up, making her look like a child. But she was not delicate. She appeared strong, and Lissa could imagine her having to be to keep four boys from misbehaving.
“And who is this you’ve brought us? Are you still collecting strays?”
Anthony turned rather red at his mother’s question.
Lissa quite enjoyed that, so she kept silent, waiting to see what he would say.
“Mother, this is actually my wife in disguise. Your Grace, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my wife, Baroness Bellamore. Lissa, this is my mother.”
Belatedly remembering her manners, Lissa curtsied, which felt a bit odd in trousers.
“Wife? Disguise? Oh, I must hear all about this.” The woman moved in front of Lissa and took her hands. “My dear, I cannot begin to tell you how happy you have made me.” Then she let go of one hand, tucked the other one around her arm, and proceeded to lead them into the house.
As soon as the butler closed the door, Anthony halted his mother. “Where might I find Father? I have urgent business with him.”
Lady Roxburgh’s brows rose high. “Does this have to do with the disguise?”
“Yes.” Anthony seemed to suddenly not know what to do with his hands, as he pulled up his collar then tugged down on his greatcoat.
Lissa found that very interesting. Was he uncomfortable telling his mother about his current profession?
Her Grace waved him off. “He’s in the study fiddling, as usual.”
Without a word, Anthony headed past the stairs down a corridor, and Lissa found herself alone with his mother.
“Come, let us get you into more comfortable clothes, though truth be told, those look rather freeing.”
Her only clothing was still tied to her horse, and if she donned it, she would hardly be presentable. “I’m afraid I have nothing to wear, Your Grace.”
The woman waved off her comment and started up the grand staircase, making a show of having to lift the skirt of her dress. “That’s of no matter. I have plenty of clothing here, including some from my daughters-in-law. I’m quite sure we can find something that will fit. And do call me Frances, or even Mother if you like. I really have little use for these grand titles.”
Lissa found herself frozen on the third stair staring at the woman as tears filled her eyes.
Lady Roxburgh stopped and turned not four steps above her. “What is it, dear?”
Lissa shook her head, trying to understand why the thought of calling the woman Mother made her want to cry. “My mother died when I was twelve. I never thought to call anyone that again.” Only by saying it did it make sense, though even so, she wasn’t entirely sure it did.
Her Grace descended to where she stood and took both her hands once again. “I would be honored if you would call me Mother, but only if you wish to. And I must call you something other than baroness.” Her Grace grimaced as if the title was her least favorite. “What is your given name?”
“My name is Lissette. I’m French.” Lissa wasn’t even sure why she blurted that out, but it was done now.
“Hmm, I don’t know any French. It’s a pretty name, but I’m sure your mum called you that. Would it be acceptable to call you Lizzy?”
Her throat closed at the nickname, one her grandfather had given her. Instead of answering, she nodded.
“Wonderful. Now come, Lizzy.” Her Grace took Lissa’s hand and led her up the stairs. “I want to hear all about why you’re dressed as a young man and how you managed to get my son to marry you.”
Lissa would not lie about the reason they were married, so she would focus mostly on the investigation she and Anthony had been conducting—leaving out all the sordid details, of course.
Within minutes, she was in a room with a maid helping her into a fine muslin rose day dress. Her male shirt had been determined too rough, and she’d been given a shift, stays, and new stockings. Though they wanted to take her boots and daggers, she insisted on keeping them.
Lady Roxburgh sat on the wingback chair in the room supervising the transformation, even to the point of how Lissa’s hair should be swept up. Finally, everything was as the duchess wished, and Her Grace shooed the maid away.
“Now come sit with me and explain everything.” She patted the wingback chair next to the one she was in, smiling with anticipation.
Lissa moved to the chair and sat, quite pleased with such a broad opening. It allowed her to speak about what she wished to speak about. “Do you know your son has been investigating people for various lords?”
“Of course. He doesn’t divulge much in his letters, but it does sound as if he’s enjoying himself, as I told him to.”
Lissa frowned, as that was not the impression she had from Anthony. “He has told me that his family is not pleased with his activities.”
Her Grace sighed. “Yes, well, that would be his father and three brothers. They can be quite boring in their traditions, but I told him to enjoy his life however he wished. When he was young, he thought of himself as expendable—and yes, at the age of but seven, that is what he called himself. There was no way I could sway him otherwise, as his father and brothers had truly made him feel that way, though not intentionally. I do hope he has overcome that flaw. But yes, I told him because he was a fourth son, it gave him the freedom to do whatever he wished with his life.”
Lissa’s admiration for Lady Roxburgh grew at how clever she was, though she’d keep the fact that Anthony still considered himself expendable to herself. Even at the thought, her stomach clenched. He truly didn’t realize how important he was.
“So your disguise has to do with his latest investigation?” Her Grace’s blue eyes, the same color as Anthony’s, shone with excitement.
Pleased that the woman was far from the typical duchess, Lissa continued. “I’m sure Anthony is telling His Grace about this even as I speak, so you should know as well. We stumbled upon a plot to kill the king.”
“What? No one can get to the king, especially now, with his ailment.”
She leaned forward, happy to have someone to talk with about it. “We knew there was something afoot with a certain lord, and so Anthony garnered an invitation into the man’s home through your eldest, Lord Ferncroft. While there, we discovered a secret room. Unfortunately, the lord discovered us and a fight ensued.”
Her Grace’s eyes widened. “Is that how my son got that terrible bruise on his forehead?”
“Indeed it is. As we escaped, I stuffed my pockets with letters we had found, but hadn’t had a chance to read, in the hopes they would help us. It was after we rode to Gretna Green and married that we were finally able to read them. You see, when I grabbed up the letters, I also inadvertently scooped up a few valuables. Anthony was afraid the lord in question would bring me before a magistrate, so he married me to protect me.”
Anthony’s mother studied her then began to shake her head. “No.” She continued moving. “No, my son would not marry you simply to protect you.”
Confused, Lissa pressed the point. “I promise you, he did. We have been friends for well on three years now, so he feels a certain obligation toward me. It’s what I felt when protecting him in France. I know you wished your son a love match like you and the duke, but I promise you, we will rub along nicely.” She smiled, hoping the woman wouldn’t be too crushed.
But Lady Roxburgh kept shaking her head. “I understand you believe that, as I imagine he hasn’t told you how he feels about you, but the truth is, he could’ve found a way to protect you without binding himself to you for the rest of his life. No, my son loves you.”
Lissa shook her own head but stopped as she thought back on their time since reuniting. There had been a definite shift in how he treated her the day they discovered the gun case entrance to the secret room. Could he truly be in love with her? Her belly turned in on itself and she rolled in her lips, not sure how to feel about such a revelation…if it were true.
“Don’t worry. All will be well. My son is a smart man. He would know the right woman for him, and if you have been friends for such a length of time, then that is a strong foundation.”
Though the woman’s words were meant to soothe Lissa, they didn’t. In fact, they made her feel guilty.
She rose from the chair and walked to the dressing table. What she felt for Anthony was not the same as what she felt for Etienne. It was very different. It was fondness, respect, protectiveness, enjoyment, and pleasure.
She stared at herself in the mirror. But that was what she’d felt for Etienne, and yet it wasn’t the same. Could it be her age now that made it feel different? Anthony understood her, and she him. They had the same spirit, as it were. They were a pair, alike, with a strong bond. She’d never been friends with Etienne. Could that be it?
Her Grace rose. “Well, I best set the staff to packing.”
“Packing?” Lissa frowned, not sure why Lady Roxburgh would need to leave. She wasn’t in danger.
“Yes. If I know my husband, and I do, we will all be leaving here by tomorrow morning. If the king is involved, then there is no time to waste. Yes, we are almost hermits up here, but my husband still has close friends, and he will want to take care of this. Besides, you cannot settle in at Bellamore until all is resolved.”
“Why?” Lissa had hoped they could leave the issue with the duke and she could see her new home. One that was truly hers.
The woman stopped on her way to the door. “Because, my dear, Anthony’s coachman has already been here to let us know that a Lord Leighhall has visited Bellamore and demanded to see my son. The coachman warned us not to let Anthony go home. Something to do with having burned his coach. As I understand it, the poor coachman barely had time to separate the horses and flee.” The woman winked before walking out.
Lissa stared at the closed door, her mind racing. Leighhall had burned the coach they were supposed to be in? A shiver raced up her spine, and she crossed her arms over her chest. Suddenly, understanding dawned. Anthony’s mother had already known something was wrong! Had she asked for details because her husband wouldn’t tell her, or was she testing her new daughter-in-law?
Lissa moved closer to the fire, feeling cold. For the second time since being sent to the Belinda School for Curious Ladies, she felt her life was no longer under her control. Now she was married to a baron. A man of wit and humor, but also with great honor and responsibility, who may, possibly, love her.
She held her hands out to the warmth, thinking of how gentle or passionate he could be in bed, how often he grinned, or how much he enjoyed the puzzle of life. These were all similarities they had. She needed time to sort out her own feelings. She cared for him greatly, of that she knew. When Leighhall had lifted the crossbow, her fury had been all consuming, but that was because he was her friend. He would feel the same way.
And maybe he did. His mother was not in his life anymore. She might not realize the man he was, the steadfast and loyal friend he could be. That was the most likely explanation.
Feeling more comfortable with her thoughts, she moved back to the dressing table, curious about why Her Grace had been so particular about her—
The door flew open, banging against the wall as Anthony strode in. “We leave in an hour.”
It appeared his mother had been correct. “Where are we going?”
He stopped at the opposite wall and turned. “We go to Silver Meadows to enlist the Duke of Northwick’s aid in speaking with the regent.”
A wave of cool air seemed to envelop her, and she wished herself back by the fireplace. “The regent? But he’s—”
“I know. But my father makes an excellent point. We give the regent a chance to blame the whole affair on Leighhall. Prinny can claim it was the viscount’s idea and he was just humoring Leighhall, or some such story. Then we’ll have him.” He punctuated his statement by grasping the air in front of him.
“And if he doesn’t blame it all on Leighhall?” She hoped the men had come up with a second option.
“Then he’d have to throw two dukes and a baron into Newgate, and that would cause quite a fuss.”
“A fuss?” Her heart began to race. “A fuss is not enough. You can’t go to the regent with your plan unless you have a better alternative.”
His smile faded. “What do you suggest? We can’t very well take out an ad in the morning Gazette . The idea is for the regent to be assured that very few are a party to this information.”
She crossed her arms and shook her head. “No. That may be good for the regent, but it’s not good for you. Take the Captain. Take the Earl of Harewood. Take every peer you can so it’s impossible for the regent to do anything else.”
He stared at her, his eyes wide as if her idea was addle-brained. But a slow smile began to lift his lips as he strode across the room and kissed her.
It was a quick, hard, sensuous kiss. And then his lips left hers, his smile wide. “You are brilliant!”
Surprised by his sudden acceptance, she wrinkled her nose. “I am?”
“Yes. You are also beautiful in that dress. I’m afraid there won’t be time to gather more clothes for the trip, as we leave so soon. Already a footman is riding fast to let the Duke of Northwick know to expect us.”
Relieved that he would accept her plan and hopefully not be thrown in prison, she relaxed. “I don’t need any other clothes except a pelisse or cloak. Oh, and I would like to keep the clothing I brought with me. After all, that is my wedding dress.”
He cupped her cheek. “Yes, it is, and I’ve already ordered it to be packed. Lissa, everything is going to be fixed. I prom—”
She placed her finger over his lips. “No. Don’t. I’m simply happy that we have a way forward.”
He held her hand and sucked her finger into his mouth, sending shivers of desire coursing through her. Then he pulled her in and kissed her again, this time gently. When he let her go, he started for the door. “I’ll let my father know the change in strategy and have more letters sent.” He stopped halfway out of the room. “I did let the Duke of Northwick know of our marriage. I hope that will relieve Lady Eleanor.”
Her heart melted that he’d thought of her friend. “I am grateful.”
A quick smile lifted his lips, and he left.
Now was the time of reckoning. It was as if her whole life was culminating in the next few days. Either they would all be safe and Leighhall would no longer be a threat, or she and her husband would be thrown in prison.
Husband . The word echoed in her head, and she sat abruptly on the chair at the dressing table. She now had a husband, and she was worried about him far more than she was worried for her friend .