Chapter 9
The reason for the generosity bestowed by Lord Banastre’s brother revealed itself as soon as they reached his seat, Elmwood Grange.
The household came out to greet the loaned carriage, a formal and ostentatious welcome thoroughly unexpected by Edward these days.
And then he saw Lord Leontius’s heir, a boy of nine or ten years of age, standing alongside his blond father companionably.
The lad — the only child standing on the front steps — had brown hair.
Brown hair resembling that of Captain Lord Edward Richard Stone, as he’d been known at the time he’d encountered the child’s mother in Portugal.
Lady Leontius was nowhere in evidence, though that wasn’t surprising; gossips always said that she’d stayed in Portugal under the spell of the same ouvidor Edward had disgraced.
When Lord Leontius came forward, he moved with studied elegance, aided by a cane. And Edward finally recalled the day a horse had landed on his leg and the breeding request he’d made shortly thereafter.
It seemed he could count on one man in this house to appreciate his conduct in Portugal.
“Dick Stone, a pleasure to have you at Elmwood.”
Edward clasped his hand in greeting and made the introductions.
He introduced Tabby as a family friend — this would likely fool no one, but they had to observe proprieties when moving in society.
One must think of the wives present, after all (though a good number of them had enjoyed Edward’s company in bed, so he wasn’t sure precisely who this fiction should reassure).
“And this is my son, Richard,” said Leontius, drawing the boy forward and watching with pride as he made his bows to the guests.
Edward’s heart raced in his chest. Given that he had little to do with the ton other than fucking the wives of the elite, he rarely saw the outcome of his breedings, especially not when they were nearly human in form and function.
Richard had a way of standing, both proud and deeply shy, that made Edward think of his deceased elder brother Horatio at that age.
Suddenly, he wanted to skip rocks while looking manfully at a trout pond.
Anything to disguise the feeling that he might cry at the thought of never watching his own child make their bows or curtsies.
“Several old compatriots plan to attend the house party this weekend. And we expect to be graced by the presence of our neighbors, the Duke and Duchess of Chevaliermont.”
Gesù, the only thing that could make this a bigger fiasco would be his former fiancée, Phily, and her licentious husband, Monty.
His eyes darted to Tabby. She was already regarding him. His girl — young woman — sent him a wink and let herself be led into the house with her head high as if she’d only ever lived in manors such as this.
***
Edward was trying to tie his cravat for the third time when he heard the door to his room click open and shut.
“If you’ve come here to finish me off, make it quick so I needn’t fiddle with this demmed cravat a moment longer,” said Edward.
“Now, why would I want to do that?” asked Tabby, poking her head around the wardrobe.
“Ahh, at last,” he said, collapsing into a well-padded chair. “Come, give me a kiss and make it all better.”
Edward held out his arms, and Tabby slid tentatively into his lap for the first time. She applied herself to fixing his neckcloth and making his cock swell.
“What’s got you in a pelter, Dick Stone?” she asked.
“I don’t think I can do it.”
“Do what?” she asked, pulling on his cravat in ways that gave him ideas of a most stimulating nature.
“Solve this problem of who claimed I committed treason.”
She hummed, doing rather more with the fabric than even a seasoned valet.
“If it were simple, wouldn’t I have figured it out all those years ago?” he asked, resisting his desire to stand and pace because it would send Tabby sprawling.
“Everything is different now.”
“What’s different? I might have a courtesy title and a little income from breeding, but I’m still a disgraced former soldier who is sticking his cock where he shouldn’t!”
Tabby shoved his shoulder and arranged her face until she was both ferocious and adorable. Funny how she could do that.
“Damn you, Dick Stone! If you believe that, you’re cork-brained.”
Now, what was she on about!
“Look at yourself today,” she said, tapping on the flask inside his coat, her eyebrows pinched together. “What were you drinking in those days, back in Portugal?”
“Had a fondness for brandy,” he said with a smile as he recalled the casks they’d liberated after a skirmish with the French. “Madeira.”
“You marinated in the drink and chased every skirt in town? Is that what you’re doing now?”
“No,” he groused. “But—”
“And are you currently at risk of the firing squad or moments from arrest?”
“You know I’m not, but—”
“I don’t want to hear your doubts, Edward!” she cried. “Have you forgotten that your awful father has Tencendor?”
“Of course not,” he muttered.
“And now you have an associate. Or maybe you had another me in Portugal?” she asked, her right eyebrow raised.
“I offended every associate I had in those days,” he said with a chuckle. “Mostly by fucking their favorite girl or wife, but don’t underestimate my ability to drive people away.”
“Is that so?” she asked, finally finishing his cravat. He looked down at it.
“A mailcoach? And a competent one at that. You really are a prize, Tabby cat.”
She poked him in the center of the knotted fabric. “And don’t you forget it!”
Edward grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers while contemplating how to discover the truth of the treason rumors. And then he recalled Tabitha was sitting on his lap and looking very charming indeed. Her wig was tempting him, but he knew better than to muss her up right now.
“Don’t look at me like that, Dick Stone,” she said softly.
“Like what?” he asked, nipping at her ear.
“Like you’d rather devour me than save your horse.”
Well, she certainly knew how to throw cold water on a fattening cock.
“In the army, did you ever run away? Ever back down from a fight?” she asked, warming to the topic of why he should charge forward.
“Plenty of times,” he said. “Retreating is a perfectly acceptable option provided a commander gives the order.”
She visibly deflated. “I didn’t expect you to say that. You really mean…you sometimes ran away in battle?”
“Plenty of times,” he said with a shrug. “That’s why I’m still around to fuck you. And why Tencendor is alive to enjoy my father’s hospitality. He galloped away too; it wasn’t just me.”
“Oh.”
“I apologize for shattering your illusions, madam. I am nothing if not a coward and a scoundrel.”
“I don’t think you are,” she said, shifting in his lap and brushing hair back from his brow. “Maybe you simply didn’t love king and country enough to take a ball or bayonet to the gut for ‘em.”
“Can’t say that old King George makes a man want to charge into battle without thought for life and limb. But then, nothing would make me stick my neck out for my fellow man. I’m a scoundrel, Tabby, best to free yourself of me.”
She sent her eyes to the crown molding in that most well-appointed of guest rooms and seemed to hold back a wall of words. Edward hoped she might treat him to a pyrotechnics show consisting of her gutter tongue — ideally leading to some passionate kisses to subdue her anger.
“You say all of this as if you’re operating alone. You have an associate now,” she said.
Edward looked about. “Speaking of my associate, where is Tobias?”
She bounced on his lap harder until he winced.
“You think I can’t operate as your partner because I wear dresses now?” she asked huffily.
“I can think of many ways I’d like you to operate—”
“Focus your attention, Dick Stone!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “I’ve been hard at work while you’ve been wallowing.”
“Don’t work too hard. The Duke and Duchess of Chevaliermont are prowling about and likely to yank you inside of a secret panel or behind a tapestry if they see how pretty you look. I suspect they only attend house parties for the sake of ruining good girls.”
She gave a small growl and cupped his interested cock. “I’ll be a good girl. Your good girl. And if you’re a good boy and follow my plan, I’ll make it very worth your while.”
Promising.
And that is how Miss Tabitha Brewer steered Dick Stone into the most dangerous moment of his hazard-filled life.