A Wedding For The Scandalous Heiress

Chapter Four

Wulf struggled with a powerful urge to shake Isabella until she was as disarrayed as he was after galloping all the way here as if the devil was on his heels. But he couldn’t do that with the young Kentons looking on. Even if their softly hostile words didn’t carry on the clear air, such acute children must already know something was amiss and that would send them running for their father. Tension was stiffening every muscle and sinew he had and he wanted Isabella with a burning hunger he’d never felt the like of before. It roared to life the instant he set eyes on her hesitating on the edge of the terrace at Haile Carr while he was trying to convince himself to go inside the hot and brightly lit ballroom because Magnus needed his support and never mind the Earl and his eldest half-brother’s order to stay away. If only he’d fought his doubts a little harder, he might have been introduced to this golden-haired and lovely heiress as Magnus’s intended bride instead of kissing her as if his heart and soul depended on it.

An image of his brother six months on, pale, bony and unshaven as he brooded over a brandy glass at the breakfast table, reminded him why he was here. But as Isabella Alstone was as cool as the frosty air around them as she stared back at him, there seemed no point repeating the speech he’d put together word by painful word as he rode here. His inner devil took over his tongue at first sight of her and hurt was still screaming for air inside him. For months this sense of betrayal had wanted to tumble out in a toxic stream of bitter words, but they weren’t for Magnus, were they?

‘Quiet men have unquiet souls and dark needs and it could be too late to draw back and say a polite “no, thank you” to the next one you hook as firmly as you caught my brother,’ he warned. The thought of her playing with another idiot in the dark made him feel as if madness was lying in wait.

‘You have no idea what your brother and I mean to each other. You should be wary of thinking you know him better than he does himself, Mr FitzDevelin. I would like you to leave before you cause the sort of scene I would rather not put my family through at Eastertide with my sister so near her time.’

‘No doubt your brothers-in-law will enjoy crushing my pretensions if they find me, but I rode here for my brother’s sake and would rather be a thousand miles away for mine. Will you mend this public rift and take up your betrothal to Magnus again?’

‘No,’ she said stiffly.

Was it the hint of hurt too deep for an ice princess that made his breath catch and a whisper of forbidden longing catch at his heart? No, she was his brother’s dream and Wulf FitzDevelin’s worst nightmare. ‘You don’t care a fig for my brother,’ he said flatly and turned away in disgust. Yes, that was it; her regal indifference to Magnus’s sufferings disgusted him. He should disregard the little part of him that was dancing a jig because she was free to enjoy all kinds of forbidden mischief with Magnus’s bastard brother at last.

‘Maybe I care too much,’ he thought he heard her whisper and his inner devil tripped up in mid-skip and fell flat on its ugly face.

Wulf spun on his heel to glare a challenge at her and she met it, nodded at their youthful audience to remind him to be quiet. ‘Why break your engagement, then?’ he rumbled gruffly.

‘Because it was the right thing to do,’ she murmured, watching the Kenton children explore the labyrinth as if they’d been the centre of her interest all this time and the hard tension in the air between them didn’t fascinate her as well.

‘And you always do the right thing, do you?’

‘No, but I own my mistakes when I realise I’ve made them, Mr FitzDevelin.’

‘Was it because I kissed you at the Summer Ball?’ he finally gritted out the question that had alternatively appalled and elated him since he read a notice the marriage between the Honourable Magnus Haile and Miss Isabella Alstone would not take place. The newssheet had appeared just as he returned from running away from his stark betrayal of his brother’s trust.

‘You do have a high opinion of yourself, Mr FitzDevelin.’

‘Was it?’ he persisted.

‘No, I might have managed to forget that outrage...’

‘You didn’t respond with outrage at the time; I wish you had.’

‘So do I and stop interrupting—it’s rude as well as a waste of time. Where was I? Oh, yes, I might have forgotten that outrage, but I chose to keep it in my memory as a reminder never to wander out of a hot ballroom and expect to find a gentleman in the dark. Your conduct that night had no influence on my decision not to marry your half-brother. Be glad of it, Mr FitzDevelin, and stop glaring at me as if I made you do it when we both know you fell on me like the lust-driven yahoo you are.’

He ought to be as furious as she was trying to make him, but when she put on that high-nosed lady manner, it lit a fire inside him she ought to be a lot more wary of. It had burnt out of control that night at Haile Carr; heat had scorched the sense out of both of them, as if being close as they could get was all that mattered in this life. Gus would have every right to despise him if he found out what they nearly did the first night they laid eyes on one another, but this wasn’t about them and stealing illicit kisses in the moonlight. He had come here to plead with her to take his half-brother back and marry him, not to remind them both how disgracefully they behaved when they forgot who they were. So how is that going, Wulfric? Badly. The uncomfortable truth was he didn’t want her to wed anyone else. Fury at the very idea of her in another man’s arms thundered up against his love for his brother and trumped it. He made himself recall the sickening fall back to earth that night after he’d kissed this beautiful, vital woman as if his life depended on it, then found out who she was. A Miss Alstone of Wychwood would never truly want a misfit like him. Even if he had half a kingdom to offer her, she’d turn up her nose and say a chilly ‘No, thank you’.

‘Did Gus ever kiss you like that?’ he heard himself ask and only just smothered a groan of disbelief.

‘He never asked for more than a lady cares to give before marriage.’

‘Less than nothing, then,’ he stated flatly and she blushed and lowered her eyes. He tried to stamp on a low sense of satisfaction he’d ruffled her ice-maiden calm when Gus could not.

‘I gave your brother his freedom, and if you want to know more, you must ask him,’ she ended with so much ice in her voice he shivered.

‘Do you think I haven’t?’

‘Ah, but you don’t ask, do you? You demand.’

Wulf blushed and was surprised he still could. ‘I’m sorry I was rude,’ he said a little more loudly so the children might hear him, if they hadn’t run off to find enough strong men to throw him out. He flicked a glance in their direction and saw they were still there, keeping half an eye on him as if he might do something very interesting if they turned their backs and they didn’t want to miss it.

‘You only ever wanted me because of how I look,’ she accused so softly he could barely hear her. ‘And don’t twit me on being vain, because it’s more of a trial than a blessing. Men have wanted me since before I left the schoolroom because of my fortune and a set of even features, but I was always more than that to Magnus—would I could say the same for you.’

‘Marry him, then,’ he said harshly, secretly hurt she thought him wanting and why wouldn’t she when Magnus was worth a dozen of him?

She sighed and shook her head. ‘Do try listening for once,’ she said as if she was running out of patience. ‘Magnus confided in me, and if you can’t trust my word we should not wed, ask him to do the same for you.’

‘You could marry me,’ he heard himself say as if his voice was coming from a great distance.

‘Because you kissed me once and feel guilty? No, thank you. I wouldn’t marry now unless I was so deep in love I couldn’t help myself, which means I shall never marry because I don’t want to be in love.’

‘Perhaps you won’t have a choice, but you wouldn’t wed a bastard even if you loved me from head to foot, would you? Miss Alstone of Wychwood and the by-blow of an erring countess? Unthinkable.’

‘I would dislike you if you had a ducal coronet, vast numbers of houses and thousands of acres to your name. Being housed and fed by a vindictive man during your early years has bent you out of shape, Mr FitzDevelin. Maybe Lord Carrowe isn’t the tolerant, sophisticated gentleman the polite world think him, but you’re not either.’

‘I hope you don’t mean he raised me in his own image.’

‘No, but I think you became hard and angry in order to survive his harsh regime and you shouldn’t let him shape your view of the world.’

‘You have no idea how it feels to be blamed for anything amiss in your family’s life.’

‘My sister Kate and I were left in our great-aunt and cousin’s hands as small children. I doubt there’s much your stepfather could teach them about humiliating those too small or poor to thumb their noses and walk away. You ran as soon as you were old enough, didn’t you? I can’t tell you how we would have envied you the strength and cunning to survive in the wider world when we were to blame for anything that went wrong at Wychwood before our brother-in-law inherited it.’

Wulf felt his heart lurch at the thought of tiny, defiant Isabella surviving such a harsh regime. She ought to have been doted on and valued from the moment she was born, as the outgoing and confident children on the other side of this coolly peaceful garden obviously were. He itched to drag the hags who inflicted such cruelty on two little girls to the nearest Bridewell and show them how it felt to be whipped and humiliated until tears and pleas sank into despair and your only refuge was unconsciousness. He’d sworn as a boy never to lay violent hands on a woman or child, so he’d have to trust the Earl of Carnwood to make sure those harpies never had control of a child’s life again and reminded himself the Alstone sisters were nothing to do with him, then or now.

‘You do understand, then,’ he admitted gruffly.

‘I do, but we were rescued by my eldest sister’s godmama after she spent a year or two nagging my grandfather to send us to school so persistently he gave in to get some peace. Then Miranda married Kit and we had a fine governess and all the love we were starved of when Miranda left and my brother died. So Kate and I only had a few years of being wronged before our older sister and brother-in-law showered us with enough love and attention to make up for that time.’

‘Those women left their mark on you,’ he argued quietly and at least now he knew why she held herself a little aloof in case she met gleeful spite in a stranger’s eye or saw a bully under their skin.

‘Not as big as the one your stepfather left on you,’ she countered.

‘He doesn’t rule my life; I won’t let him.’

‘Then if you get over this conviction you know what’s best for your brother and anyone else you care about, we might get on better.’

‘We might, except Magnus is still miserable and you’re still here. Relations between us won’t improve until you change that situation.’

‘Here we go again, so it’s probably as well my brother-in-law is about to interrupt us.’

‘Damn it, I’m not done.’

‘Well, I am and here he comes anyway. Go back to London and talk to your half-brother before you blunder into any more private homes without an invitation. If you tell Magnus half the wrong-headed nonsense you spouted at me, I’m sure he’ll confide before you dash about the countryside doing more damage.’

Two purposeful males were striding ever closer and she was pushing him aside as if he was a problem she’d confronted and solved. Except Wulf felt more like an arsenal of gunpowder ready to blow with the smallest spark. He wouldn’t be going away satisfied he could now forget Miss Alstone’s vital beauty, acute mind and waspish tongue as if he’d never met her one hot and spellbound August night.

* * *

‘Papa, Papa, we’re over here,’ little Kit shouted as if he and his sister must be more important than any mysterious stranger.

‘Mr Fitz-something helped him catch up with me,’ Sophia informed her father with an exasperated look at her brother, as if she already knew he wouldn’t get the rebuke she half-wanted him to have for spoiling her adventure.

‘And your mother has a great deal to say about you setting him a bad example twice in one day, so I’d keep quiet about his sins if I were you,’ her father told her gently as he sat young Kit on his shoulders. ‘Did you invite FitzDevelin here, Shuttleworth?’ Sir Hugh Kenton asked very coolly indeed and Wulf no longer wondered how the man kept six children almost in order. He had an urge to go and stand in a corner until he’d learnt how to behave himself and he was supposed to be grown-up.

‘No,’ Lord Shuttleworth said baldly.

Wulf felt as if his fur was being rubbed the wrong way, but he couldn’t accuse either of them of the sort of lazy prejudice his stepfather lived by. They clearly disliked him for his own sake and never mind the bed he shouldn’t have been born in.

‘Mr FitzDevelin is on his way into Wales and has called in to pass on a message from his mother, Edmund,’ Miss Alstone said as she rashly stepped in to protect him from making a very sudden exit with the force of a gentleman’s boot to speed him on his way.

‘How unexpected of her ladyship to send you as her envoy, FitzDevelin,’ the Viscount Shuttleworth said blandly.

‘And how invisible her letter is, too,’ Wulf thought he heard Sir Hugh mutter as if he’d been looking forward to throwing the unwanted guest out for his whatever he and Lord Shuttleworth were to one another. Brother-in-law; cousin-by-marriage? Whatever complex relation his lordship was to Sir Hugh Kenton, the Alstone clan moved as one formidable whole when threatened. How Wulf wished his own family were so uncomplicated.

‘I suppose your horse has had a short rest, Mr FitzDevelin, so you can be on your way to Brecon again,’ Isabella said as if a mythical journey would save him from her relatives’ protective wrath.

Tempted to argue he had nowhere else to go just for the hell of it, Wulf obliged with a silent bow because he didn’t feel like lying outright to these two aristocrats.

‘A shame we can’t put you up for the night, FitzDevelin, but I must be inhospitable,’ Lord Shuttleworth said as if he was only mildly amused by playing host to such an unwelcome visitor for however short a time it took to get rid of him.

Wulf read the warning underneath his bland comment and decided to go quietly. No point arguing when he’d wasted a long ride hoping he could put the world right for his half-brother. For once in his life he’d tried to be unselfish, noble even, and Miss Alstone was so obstinate he wondered why he’d bothered. He’d fought all the way here to blot out the snide, self-mocking voice that whispered he was a fool in time to the pounding of hooves as he ate at the miles between him and Isabella Alstone. It argued he was desperate to see her again and never mind his brother. And now he was here why had he ever thought anything he had to say could make a difference when Magnus couldn’t change her mind?

‘You’d best hurry. I’m told it could rain so hard tonight the roads will be impassable,’ Sir Hugh warned and even his son stopped telling his father about his day so far as if he’d caught something implacable in his quiet voice.

‘Then I’d best get on my way before I’m marooned,’ Wulf agreed blandly, although they all knew he’d be heading back to London and it didn’t look like rain.

‘Thank you for delivering the Countess’s message and do give her my best wishes when you see her next, Mr FitzDevelin,’ Miss Alstone chimed in to speed him on his way.

What else could he do but bow as gracefully as he could, then smile a quick farewell at Miss Sophia Kenton and the little rogue sitting on his father’s shoulders? Miss Alstone was already discussing the weather with Kenton while Lord Shuttleworth waited impatiently to see Wulf off the property.

‘My wife is very near her time, FitzDevelin,’ his lordship told him as they strolled away. ‘Come here again and I’ll have you roped on your horse and left to wander wherever he takes you. And stay away from my sister-in-law.’

‘I came on my brother’s behalf, my lord,’ Wulf made himself argue. He wanted to thump someone to make himself feel better as well, but it would do neither of them any good to alarm the very pregnant Viscountess.

‘I trust my sister-in-law to know her own mind and so should you. She and Mr Haile will only have parted after a lot of heartache and I hate to see her troubled.’

‘You are in her confidence, then?’ Wulf heard himself say urgently, as if he was her rebuffed suitor and not Magnus.

‘No, but she hates to break a promise and you can tell your brother so when you get back to London. He obviously doesn’t know her as well as he thinks if he thought sending you to plead his case would get her to change her mind.’

‘He doesn’t know I’ve come.’

‘Then you’ll be the butt of his displeasure as well, won’t you?’

‘Probably,’ Wulf said with the sort of defensive young man’s shrug he thought he’d grown out of.

‘I suppose you cared enough to come here on a pointless quest bullheaded,’ his lordship said as if he was trying to find excuses for the sort of boyish mischief Wulf never had the chance to commit.

‘My brother is eating his heart out. He’s taken to the bottle and refuses to shave for days on end and not even our younger sisters can get a smile out of him. If you had a half-brother you loved, wouldn’t you do anything to see him happy when he’s hurting so badly?’

‘Yes, which is why you’re walking to my stables to collect your horse and not being carried there by my grooms to be put on it and driven off fast as the nag will go.’

‘I’d best be grateful for small mercies, then,’ Wulf said with a rueful grin and decided he’d like this man under other circumstances.

‘Don’t try too hard until you’re away without arousing my wife’s suspicion you’re here on a mission of your own,’ Lord Shuttleworth said as if he knew Wulf’s reasons for coming here were only half-unselfish and that was impossible, wasn’t it?

‘Consider me warned off, my lord.’

‘A shame, but I won’t have my wife or her sister upset if there’s anything I can do to prevent it and that’s a fault I’ve long shared with Sir Hugh and the current Earl of Carnwood.’

‘I’m not your equal, my lord, but there’s no need to point it out with every second word. Trust my stepfather to be sure my irregular birth is engraved on my heart, much as Mary Tudor claimed Calais was on hers.’

‘It’s not a matter of quality or inequality, but common sense. Tangling with you or your brother now will drag my sister-in-law’s good name through more mud and I can’t have that.’

‘Nobody will know I was here if you don’t tell them and I didn’t give your stableman a name.’

‘Which was why he sought me out and, as a reward, I’ll be granting him a cottage of his own this Eastertide so he can wed his sweetheart. So some good came of your impromptu visit.’

‘I shall preen myself even as I ride away with my tail metaphorically between my legs, my lord,’ Wulf said and was surprised by a bark of genuine laughter from his reluctant host.

‘Smug or not, that will be a challenge.’

‘I’m used to it,’ Wulf said ruefully and wasn’t that the truth?

‘I suppose you must be and as a rule I care more about a man’s head and heart than the way he came into the world, but I know my sister-in-law has been hurt and I care more about her than your sensitivities, so I’m prepared to be inhospitable in your case.’

‘I came here on my half-brother’s business,’ Wulf said as his temper began to tug at its tethers. Magnus was ill and Isabella Alstone was clearly in perfect health and coolly composed, so why was she the one who needed protecting?

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