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BOOK: Barbara Metzger
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With a few glasses of the earls cognac in him, Abbotts complexion was redder than ever. He started, I am honored . . .

 

 

Now Daniels face turned red, too.

 

 

Someone nudged Abbott. I am proud . . .

 

 

The earl slapped a hand to his ear to stop the din of discord. Harry screwed up his face at the sour taste. Rex blinked to clear his eyes of the red haze. Lady Coras eyelid twitched and Susanna borrowed Choates handkerchief.

 

 

Daniel pushed the older man aside. Ignoring the hives, he raised his champagne glass to Corie. I am the happiest man alive. Miss Corisande Abbott truly wants to marry me.

 

 

Amid the applause, Susanna pulled Barny forward. I am the happiest man alive, too, the young cleric said, a bit incoherent with nerves and joy. Miss Susanna Stamfield has agreed to be my wife.

 

 

And I, too, Lord Morgan shouted from the side. Never been happier. Miss Eugenia Reynolds has done me the honor of accepting my proposal. She saved my life; now she gets to spend hers with me.

 

 

Lord Trowbridge was next, holding his hand up to quiet the shouts of congratulations while the servants refilled the glasses. I am not the happiest man on earth, yethe glanced toward Lady Corabut I am pleased to announce that with the assistance of Mr. Daniel Stamfield, the Bank of England has destroyed a counterfeit ring. The British currency is safe.

 

 

That got the loudest cheers: to England, to the Crown, to the lucky couples, to the Royce family.

 

 

Daniel made sure to shake Abbotts hand where everyone could see. No one noticed the man wince. Daniel passed his future father-in-law on to Harry, the master swordsman, who shook his hand, harder. Then to Rex, who raised and trained horses, who shook his hand, harder still. Then Clarence Haversmith, by prearrangement, led him off to the little room set aside for waiting tradesmen and the like. He left him with a decanter of Lord Royces finest port, and a bucket of ice for his hand. Never mind that the ice had been packed around the oysters.

 

 

Clarence nodded to Daniel when he returned to the ballroom, so Daniel was able to reassure Corie that shed seen the last of her father. Hed drink himself into a stupor; then someone would see him into a hackney. Once he signed papers at solicitor Glessings office in the morning, she never had to see him again. You dont have to invite him to the wedding if you dont want.

 

 

Corie was about to say she was the happiest female in the universe, and that, yes, she wanted that wedding as much as

 

 

Gentlemen, ladies, your pardon, Dobbson said, looking as if he was about to cry. The constables are here. And Bow Street. And the militia, surrounding the house. They have Lord Snelling.

 

 

The Stamfields had not failed the gossip columns after all. The crowds parted to allow a line of blue-eyed men and Lord Trowbridge to file from the room as unobtrusively as possible for four distinguished members of Britains upper classan earl, two viscounts, a bastard who was about to be knightedand Daniel Stamfield.

 

 

They all went to the servants hall, which was empty now with everyone busy at the party. Uniformed men stood around the edges of the room, watching their prisoner less carefully than they watched Harrys former spies, cutpurses, and pickpockets.

 

 

Snelling was slumped in a chair, looking far more battered than when Daniel lost him, and far more dispirited. His wife had run off with her lover, his own brother-in-law had turned him in for the reward and for forging his name, and now he was facing a sure death sentence, after he faced the united Royce family.

 

 

She did it all, the cheating bitch, he cried. My wife planned it all so she and her lover could live abroad. I swear I had nothing to do with any of it.

 

 

Trowbridge looked at the Royce men. Every one was cringing and looking ill, except for Daniel, who was scratching his backside.

 

 

Guilty, they all declared.

 

 

All that was left was to decide what to do with the poltroon. Counterfeiting was a hanging offense, but it would be a scandal for Parliament to convict one of their own. We can make good on the bad currency, Trowbridge told them, but that a viscount almost bankrupted the country? The regent will look worse than he does now.

 

 

They all nodded. The only decent solution was a gentlemans exit: one room, one pistol, no way out.

 

 

Ill take care of it, Trowbridge said, so you can go back to the party. No one needs to know. Just tell the orchestra to play louder. Ill station soldiers outside and guards inside.

 

 

After the men left, and a hasty conference with Dobbson, Trowbridge and some of the uniformed men led Snelling to a small side room, one with no carpet to get ruined. Thered be a desk, if Snelling wished to write his last thoughts, and a bottle of brandy. Trowbridge left him at the door, with the loaded pistol one of the soldiers handed him. There is no other way.

 

 

Trowbridge returned to Daniel and the party and signaled that the distasteful affair was almost concluded. Snelling was in the tradesmens receiving room, where his body could be taken directly out through the service entrance.

 

 

But . . . but isnt that where Clarence said he sequestered my father? Corie asked.

 

 

They all raced through the dancers, past the refreshments room, down the stairs, back across endless corridors to the servants stairs, and over to the farthest corridor.

 

 

Daniel kept shouting for Corie to go back. She kept running. He was about to throw her over his shoulder and hand her to one of his cousins when they heard shouting from that small, seldom-used room.

 

 

Abbott was ranting about his broken fingers, and how Snellings brother ran off with the squires daughter, ruining all Abbotts plans. He almost had a title for his grandsons, and a fortune in his own pocket.

 

 

Snelling was screaming that the doxys lover killed Snellings brother, and ruined all of
his
plans. Francis was going to take the false script abroad where no one would notice.

 

 

Daniel shoved a confused guard aside and broke the door down. There was Snelling, aiming the pistol at Abbott, and Abbott wielding a broken bottle.

 

 

Stop, both of you, Daniel shouted.

 

 

Both men looked at Daniel, and both aimed their weapons in his direction. Corie leaped in front of him. No!

 

 

One of the men decided shed make a good shield. Her own father held her in front of himself, daring Snelling to shoot. Now Daniel shouted, No! He pushed Corie aside, knocked Abbott down, and then rushed Snelling, throwing his aim off.

 

 

The squire shrieked and fell to the floor. He threw his makeshift weapon at Daniel, but Trowbridge was there ahead of Rex and Harry, and only his sleeve got sliced. Meanwhile, Snelling used his empty gun to break the small window in the room and leaped through it, leaving shards and threads and blood behind.

 

 

Its Snelling, Trowbridge shouted out the window. He is escaping.

 

 

The soldiers in the grass outside were not gentlemen. They did not care about the party going on, or a viscounts dignity. They knew only that a crime against their country had been committed. They fired, all five of them.

 

 

Corie was on the floor beside her father, while Daniel and his cousins ripped off their neckcloths to stanch his wound.

 

 

Will he live? she whispered.

 

 

Yes, unfortunately, Daniel told her, his hands covered in Abbotts blood. But I doubt hell be fathering any son, not where he was hit.

 

 

Abbott groaned. All I ever wanted was a boy to carry on. He looked at Corie with loathing. And a title for my grandchildren. Not a puny female who disobeyed every order I gave. Now see what youve done, you

 

 

So Daniel clipped him a sharp right to the jaw, knocking the man unconscious. So he doesnt feel the pain, he told the audience, which seemed to be half of his mothers guests, all crowded in the hall.

 

 

The party was officially over. One gunshot could be explained as an accident in the kitchens. A firing squad on the lawns, below the ballroom windows, was cause for panic, chaos, and running to see.

 

 

At least I got some champagne this time, Lord Morgan commented, holding up his glass.

 

 

Miss Reynolds took it out of his hands.

 

 

 

 

 

Do you still want to marry me? Corie asked hours later. Her father had been stitched and sewn and druggedand carted back to his hotel, where his own valet could listen to his caterwauling.

 

 

Danield had a bath, a change of clothes, and a conference with his cousins and the earl about the best way to handle this latest social debacle. They decided to return to the country. Susanna did not need to complete her debutante Season, Lord Trowbridge could bring his sons to Stamfield Manor for the summer, Harrys wife wanted to be at her own home for the lying-in, and Lady Royce and Lady Cora had weddings to plan. Theyd given him twenty minutes, with Dobbson watching the clock, to name a date. Twenty minutes? Hell, he couldnt evenyes, he could, maybe twice, but he wouldnt. Corie deserved better, and longer, and a bed. Although the chair they shared did have possibilities. . . .

 

 

He laughed. She was sitting on his lap. Surely she could tell how much he wanted to marry her.

 

 

There will always be talk about that elopement.

 

 

He kissed her and said, There will always be a fight that needs winning.

 

 

Corie stroked his bruised jaw and traced the outlines of his fading black eye. As long as you dont go looking for trouble.

 

 

As long as you dont rush into danger. I thought my heart would stop when Snelling pointed his pistol at you.

 

 

He was pointing it at youthats why I had to run in front. You are my heart. I could not live without you.

 

 

Mi corazón
, he said in Spanish. My heart. My Corie.

 

 

A lot of the twenty minutes flew past on kisses and caresses, until they heard a cough from the slightly open doorway.

 

 

You still have not said you would marry me, you know.

 

 

Ask me again.

 

 

Im not getting down on my knees this time because Id have to let go of you, which I dont intend to do until Lady Royce calls the militia back. He kissed her lips, then her hands, each in turn. My darling, you already have my heart, my ring, my familys adoration. Wont you take my name?

 

 

Corie tried not to cry; she really did. He kissed away her tears. I love your name, and your ring, and your family. I love you, Daniel Stamfield, and I will as long as I live. I will be honored to be your wife. Proud to bear your sons. Ecstatic to be your lover. When?

 

 

They both laughed, but Daniel brushed at a tear of his own. As soon as possible, because I could not survive a long engagement. According to my mother and my aunt, they need almost a year to do the thing up right. I say let them plan Susannas wedding. We can elope to Gretna.

 

 

Corie smiled, there in his arms. Do you think anyone will ride after us to stop the marriage?

 

 

No. It wont be much of a scandal, after all. Hardly worth the inconvenience. Bad meals, damp sheets, hired horses.

 

 

And your family will be disappointed. Susanna wants to be a bridesmaid.

 

 

Aunt Royce will be furious that another of the Royce line married in a harum-scarum haste. What would you think about a special license? Susannas curate can perform the ceremony as soon as we are back at Stamfield Manor. Then we can honeymoon at our new house in London.

 

 

Will it be ready in time?

 

 

It will be ready if I have to pawn your diamonds, my love.

 

 

She took them off and handed them to Daniel. Take them. Everything I have is yours.

 

 

He pulled her closer. Everything I need is right here.

 

 

Truly?

 

 

As true as it gets, just like my love for you. You can bank on it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read on for an excerpt from
Barbara Metzgers

 

 

 

 

The Scandalous Life
of a True Lady

 

Available at penguin.com or wherever
books are sold

 

He needed her.

 

 

He No, he needed a female
like
her. Otherwise he could take one of Lyddies girls and be done with it. Hed have a pretty bit of fluff on his arm with less effort, less money, and less on his conscience. Hed also make less of an impression as a connoisseur of women, a man with exquisite taste and deep pockets. He needed a ladybird who was almost a lady, one who would have everyone talking, to create a stir heard back in London. For once, Harry sought the publicity, the notoriety, with everyone and his uncle knowing precisely where he was and with whom. Then Major Harrison, Harrys alternate identity, could die.

 

 

Miss Ryland was perfect; too perfect, unfortunately. No matter that every head would turn when she walked into a roomhe could not turn a well-bred woman into a whore. If he didnt, though, Lyddie would, so what would his scruples and sacrifice have accomplished? Nothing. Furthermore, Miss Ryland herself seemed determined on the course. She had problems, too, and lofty principles could not outweigh bare necessity. She needed money; Harry needed a mistress. Both of them were in a hurry.
BOOK: Barbara Metzger
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