His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) (11 page)

Her heart froze. She reached for Clarence’s hand, and gripped it for all she was worth. “Surely he has gone mad? He is embarrassing himself in front of most of his peers. I don’t know what has possessed him to do such a thing. Oh, poor Mama. The gossip that will come from this shall never ever stop. No matter what, I do know one thing. I don’t want to go back in there to see him,” she whispered, looking frozen with dread.

“I had fireworks of a different kind planned to end off this night,” he sighed. “Stay here, Ann. I shall deal with that blackguard. He shan’t ruin our night. You mustn’t worry,” he said, kissing her lightly on the lips before he left her.

Ann shivered, and pulled the cloak she wore closer around herself. The sound of her father’s voice shot an arrow of dread through her heart. There were a few other guests that had wandered out onto the lawn. How were they not freezing? She sighed, and put her hands on the balustrade, and focused her attention on a statue of Adonis that decorated the grounds. A statue of Aphrodite stood near it. She tried to ignore the continuing chaos back in the ballroom. Her father continued his mouthing off, to the chagrin of the guests. Their shocked exclamations told her that they were none too pleased with his ramblings. The music died out. All of the merriment suddenly ceased, all because of her father. He ruined everything. It was a wonder he used to behave himself during her mother’s balls.

Would Sir Wilfrid actually cause her father bodily harm? She had heard that Sir Wilfrid always made those who were indebted to him pay. Even if he had to use other more intimidating means to make them pay.

A footman carrying a tray of champagne wandered out onto the pavilion, and she took a coupe of champagne before he walked down the steps to attend to the other guests. Perhaps, she should go back inside and face the music. She was about to do so and turned to see Ginny rushing toward her, flanked by Val and Lady Knightwick.

“You are not an invited guest, Lord Broadway. Ann wants nothing to do with you. You have no hold over here anymore. She is now my wife. She shall henceforth be styled as Ann Deville, Countess of Evesham. She has a new family, she has my family. Pray, cease your prattling, and leave my house at once. I tire of you.” Clarence sounded so authoritative and powerful, and yet, she knew her father would only look down his nose at him in disdain. He would treat Clarence like a naughty little boy. There was absolutely nothing reticent about her father. He would gladly challenge Clarence, especially if he was as desperate as he sounded.

“Don’t you tell me what to do, young pup. You are nothing. You are barely out of your skeleton suit. You will step aside, and let me talk to Ann.”

“I should go in there and help, Clarence. He cannot deal with a man like my father alone. I need to go in there and be with him.”

Ginny sighed, and Val and Lady Knightwick adamantly shook their heads. “You shall do no such thing,” Ginny murmured. “That is why we are here to keep you from doing something so foolish. You stay here and allow Clarence to handle Lord Broadway. Should he need any assistance, he has plenty just waiting to help.”

“Aye, Papa will be there as will Henry and Gideon,” Val said.

“And you can bet that Freddie is doing all he can to restrain himself,” Lady Knightwick said. “He has really learned how to control his impulses since we married. I am ever so proud of him. The old Freddie would have been keen to knock your father’s block off—the new Freddie is still keen, but he now knows there is a time and a place—and this is certainly not the place. So you needn’t worry, Clarence isn’t in short supply of friends just waiting to give him their assistance.”

“We can probably say the same thing about Grandmamma, Granny Ma and Grumps. He is in no short supply of allies, Ann. He is surrounded by family and friends. Your father was a bloody nincompoop for doing such an idiotic thing on your wedding day,” Ginny said, sighing.

“My father sounds quite desperate,” Ann mused.

“He might just be trying to lure you out,” Ginny said. “You don’t owe him a thing, Ann. You mustn’t let him affect you so. You look positively frightful.”

“Thank you, Ginny,” she said softly, sipping at her champagne.

“Oh, Ginny, that isn’t something a bride wants to hear on her wedding day,” Val sighed.

“Ann knew what I meant. Didn’t you, dearest?”

“Aye.”

“Ann, you will come and face me. Becoming this little brat’s wife doesn’t cause you to cease being my daughter. You owe me. I have clothed, fed, and paid for everything you have ever had in your life, and this is how you recompense me? You little ungrateful chit. How dare you! After he has me killed, he will go after your Mama. Do you want that to happen? Do you? You can still save us. You can annul this dreadful match, and do your duty by Sir Wilfrid. He probably wouldn’t even care if he took you while you were still married to this young popinjay that is how much he wants to possess you. His desire for you will be my utter and complete ruination.”

She sighed. Her father had his own way of wording things. He also had a routine he seemed to follow whenever it came to giving her a dosage of good daughterly guilt.

“What could have possessed him to collude with such a blackguard?” Ginny muttered. “And why would he bloody well think that you would forsake Clarence? The man is a bloody twit—what a gormless fool.”

“He has always fallen prey to confidence schemes and gambling—I think Sir Wilfrid operates in both of those shady worlds,” Ann muttered.

“Hmm…yes. Henry said…” Val sighed, wincing. “Henry said that Sir Wilfrid was a silent partner with Lady Ambleside, and that after she fled London, he picked up where Lady Ambleside left off.”

“Bit of bad business, then,” Ginny said, her eyes sparking with rage. “I want you to stay clear of that, Ann. Nothing good can come from it. Val and I can attest to that. You let Clarence take care of you, the way he wants to do. The men shall soon sort your father out.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Sir Wilfrid,” Val said softly. “Henry has him in his line of sight ever since he found out that he was in league with Lady Ambleside. He rather paints him with the same brush you see, and well, he wants to see Lady Ambleside pay for what happened to me.”

“And well he should,” Ginny said, wrapping her arm around Val. “Now…why don’t we turn away from this dreadful spectacle, and talk about what married life means to all of us old married women.”

“We are hardly old married women. Julia is still on her honeymoon,” Val mused. 

Lady Knightwick laughed. “I think I shall still feel like that after ten years of marriage to Freddie. He invigorates me so. I feel like I am in heaven whenever he is around.”

“Wait until you make him a father. Then, you shall really see him shine,” Val said, sighing dreamily.

“You need to leave now, sir. I shan’t ask you again,” Clarence’s voice was steady, and Ann’s heart raced listening to him. He didn’t know what he was dealing with. Her father would never let it go until he received what he came for. She had to get it over with. She had to put her father’s dramatics to an end. Before anyone could detain her, she rushed forward, back into the house.

“Father, go home now. Before you make more of a spectacle of yourself,” Ann hissed. She had summoned all of her courage to confront her father, and she knew that once all was said and done, she would be completely spent.

“Ah, you finally come to see me. Ann, my daughter, you…you have to help me. You must clear up my debts with Sir Wilfrid.”

“No one shall be doing that. Go. Now,” Ann said, her voice wavering. “Go home to Mother, and try to atone for your deplorable actions against us.”

“Your mother has locked me out of her life. She has forbidden me from entering her bedchamber, and she shan’t even look at me. I shouldn’t care—but I do. I care because once that varlet deals with me, he shall systematically go after members of my family.”

“You are only trying to save your own hide. Don’t try to mask it as anything else. Pray, Father…leave.”

“I won’t depart until I get some compensation for losing you. You were my only hope, Ann. You would have satisfied Sir Wilfrid. You would have gotten him off my bloody back. But no…no, you had to bloody well run to this little indulged brat and marry him to get out of doing your duty. Your duty to me!” he yelled, his face turning a bright purple red. The rage on his face made her sick inside.

The hushed murmurings around her, told her that they would all be gossiped about come the morrow. She was so mortified. Her cheeks were so hot she knew she was flaming red, and she was starting to feel quite weakened.

“I…” she sputtered, her mind whirled. What could she do to make her father stop?

She saw Lords Prescott and Spaulding step forth. “You need to go now, mate. You’ve worn out your welcome. And we are here to piss on your pity parade. I have a wee violin I’m playing for you.” They each grabbed a hold of him, and pulled him rather forcefully out of the ballroom.

“Our blood shall be on your hands! Do you hear me?” he screamed, sounding as if he had gone to Bedlam, as they dragged him away, “My death, and your mother’s and my blessed James’s death, shall all be on your head! You will be a murderer, Ann. Do you hear me? You will be a murderess. It as good as signing our death warrants!”

Once he was out of the house, Lord Spaulding and Lord Prescott returned with grim faces. The silence was invaded with louder voices, as everyone started talking. It sounded like the buzzing of thousands of bees. She couldn’t take it, especially not when they all directed their gazes at her. She ran from the room, and dashed up the steps to find sanctuary. Her day had just gone right down into a dark, deep and dank hole, and she wanted to disappear, and never face the light of day again.

*****

“We’re sorry mate,” Freddie said. “It looks as if the party is well and truly over.”

“Why don’t you go up and comfort Ann,” his mother suggested. “We shall take care of the guests, and we will see what we can do about having them leave a little earlier than expected.”

“Thank you, Mama,” he said softly.

“And…” his father started, “I think you and Ann should repair to the Country immediately. It is time to rusticate. If Lords Prescott and Spaulding would go with you that would seem best, given Sir Wilfrid’s reputation.”

“Bit of a thug, ain’t he?” Felix said, sighing. “Not to worry, we’ve dealt with his sort in the past.”

“He is a thug masquerading as a dandified lord. He never should have inherited his baronetcy. He was too far removed from the previous baronet,” his father said.

“Maybe he took it upon himself to work it so he would inherit,” Felix suggested. “Blokes like him are used to getting what they want—and they shall do whatever it takes to get it. They far more ruthless than anyone I grew up with.”

“Well, he shan’t get what he wants this time around,” Clarence declared.

“Righto about that one, mate. We’ll see to that. You have us watching your back. Fear not,” Lucky said.

“That’s right, you’ve got the lucky one, and the charming one on your side,” Felix said proudly.

“I seem to be lost. If Gil is the lucky one, and Clarence is the charming one—what does that make you?” Freddie asked glibly, earning a death stare from Felix.

“If you weren’t such a good mate, Mouse, I would plant a ruddy facer on you.”

“Try it. The last time you hit me you almost broke your fist. It was bruised for weeks.”

“Well, your hand didn’t fare any better the last time you hit me,” Tiny countered.

“That’s because I punched through a door to reach you,” Freddie grunted. 

Clarence laughed, despite himself. “You didn’t, did you, Freddie?”

“I did,” he admitted ruefully. “I’m awfully ashamed of myself,” he said with a wide grin. “We were both a little bosky. Fine, we were as drunk as wheelbarrows, and well, Felix, here, bet me I couldn’t hit him past this line. He pointed to the space between rooms, and then, he shut the bloody door, so I smashed through it. It worked for me.”

“Not for me. You knocked me out cold, you bloody bastard.”

“I know. You did ask for it, Tiny. You know I never lose a bet. It was rather fun.”

“It was, wasn’t it? Ah, those were the days, Mouse. I miss them.” 

“I don’t. You just need to find the woman who will steal you away from that kind of mischief—and you shall find out that being on the cut and being a bloody scapegrace, isn’t nearly as much fun as having the love of your life beside you.”

“Not going to happen,” Felix said adamantly. “I shall die as I am. Without a woman to henpeck me.”

Clarence shook his head. Felix and Freddie never failed to lighten his spirits. They were the dynamic duo.

“Thank you, everyone. I do appreciate it. But I mustn’t tarry any longer.” He nodded at all of them, pulled down his waistcoat, and left the ballroom. He trudged up the steps, and sighed upon reaching the top.

How could he comfort Ann? Her father was the lowest of the lows. He was a blackguard of the highest order. He knew that he would have to be dealt with somehow—and he didn’t know how to manage it.

Lord Broadway was like a bad penny. He would inevitably show up at the worse possible moment. Unless of course, Sir Wilfrid dispatched of him—and if Sir Wilfrid went to that extreme—it would haunt Ann for the rest of her life.