Regency Rogues: Wives Wanted

Daniel nodded and left the room, knowing he would not be able to rest whilst Amelia lay unconscious. He passed the doctor in the doorway, who looked him up and down.

‘You need to get that arm cleaned up,’ the medical man said without any preamble.

Daniel glanced down at his arm, confused. Sure enough his jacket and shirtsleeve had been almost completely destroyed on the right side and a raw-looking wound was starting to blister on the skin. Daniel grimaced. Now he had noticed the burn it started to throb and hurt. Up until this point he’d been so focused on Amelia he hadn’t even realised he’d been burnt.

Quickly he returned downstairs to his study and asked the butler to organise some clean water to be put in the guest room next to his own. He also informed the elderly man they were likely to have an influx of guests arriving soon, many shaken and scared by the night’s events.

The butler took it all in his stride. Daniel knew the older man had served in the army for years and had never encountered a situation that fazed him.

Wearily Daniel returned upstairs, eager to be close to Amelia should he be needed. As he waited for the water to clean his wound his valet quietly entered the room with a change of clothes.

Daniel sank on to the bed. He realised his hands were shaking and his heart had started to race in his chest. Throughout the entire ordeal his head had remained clear and his body in control, but now he had rested and he knew there was nothing more he could do, his body was reacting to the shock of the evening.

He tried not to imagine what was happening in the room next door. He knew Amelia would not come through this unscathed and he only hoped her injuries were superficial ones. He didn’t want to examine the steely grip of panic around his heart or what it meant. He just knew his life would never be the same if Amelia didn’t make it through the next few hours.

Chapter Thirteen

Lizzie struggled to open her eyes. It was as though her eyelids were made of a heavy metal and her brain was refusing to cooperate with the rest of her body. Eventually her eyes flickered open and she frowned as she tried to take in her surroundings. Everything was blurry for a couple of seconds and her eyes stung as if she’d washed them with soap.

She let out a small groan as she remembered the fire. That was why her eyes were stinging so much and why her chest hurt with every laboured breath she took. Slowly the room came into focus and she realised she didn’t recognise her surroundings at all.

It was clear she was in a man’s bedroom. The muted colours and functionality hinted at good taste without being over the top. Lizzie struggled to remember arriving here, wherever here was.

The last thing she remembered was falling to her knees as she rushed to get out of her burning bedroom. Her feet had caught in her nightgown and she’d stumbled. Had she ever managed to get up again?

She wondered how she had escaped from the fiery inferno, looking around all the time for clues.

When the door opened Lizzie was fully awake and she turned her head towards it to see who entered. Even that little movement sent spasms through her chest and she began coughing, the irritation spreading from her throat to her chest in no time and causing her to wince with pain.

Daniel. Of course it would be Daniel.

He walked into the room, leaving the door ajar for propriety’s sake, and frowned at her. Quickly he poured her a glass of water and held it to her lips, allowing her small sips at a time. The cool liquid soothed Lizzie’s throat, but did nothing for the heaviness in her chest. It was a few minutes before the coughs subsided and she felt able to speak.

‘What happened?’ she asked, her voice unnaturally croaky.

Daniel didn’t answer for a few seconds and Lizzie took the opportunity to look him over. He appeared tired, as if he hadn’t slept at all. He was neatly turned out, but not dressed for the outside world. It must be his house they were in. She glanced down at his arm and grimaced when she saw the bandage. He was holding his injured arm across his chest, as if it pained him, but she saw no evidence of it in his face.

‘What do you remember?’ Daniel asked.

Lizzie closed her eyes and tried to think back, past the billowing black smoke and inferno of flames, past the panic and the feeling of certainty she’d had that she was going to die.

‘I remember going to bed,’ she said. She’d been reading her uncle’s letter over and over again, but eventually she’d decided to sleep. She had placed the letter down on her bedside table and blown out her candle. ‘Then I awoke and the room was boiling hot and filled with smoke. The curtains were on fire and it spread so quickly. I couldn’t breathe.’

Lizzie tried to block out the panic that was rising with the memory. She felt Daniel’s hand cover her own and immediately her racing heart started to slow and her mind cleared.

‘I tried to escape, but I tripped,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘I thought I was going to die.’

Lizzie glanced at Daniel again, taking in his bandaged arm and concerned expression, and realised the truth. He’d saved her. Somehow he’d battled the flames and the smoke and he’d saved her.

‘You found me?’ Lizzie asked quietly.

He nodded. ‘I was passing the house when I saw the fire. When you didn’t emerge I went in and got you out.’

Lizzie knew there must have been much more to it than that. He would have had to push past everyone fleeing the burning house, going against every survival instinct that was screaming for him to stay well away from the fire. Then he would have had to brave the smoke and the flames and search the burning building before he came across her unconscious body. Once he’d found her, he would have had to carry her all the way outside even though the flames would have been licking at his heels and the smoke filling his lungs.

‘Thank you,’ Lizzie said sincerely, holding his eye. She knew what he had done deserved so much more than a ‘thank you’, but she also knew he was not the sort of man to seek out praise. It was enough that he had saved her. ‘Did everyone...?’ She trailed off, not knowing how to ask the question.

‘Everyone got out alive. Some of the staff have minor injuries and smoke inhalation, but nothing that time won’t heal.’

Lizzie nodded, the movement setting off another bout of coughing. Her chest felt as though it were about to explode and her throat burned.

‘You were injured?’ she asked when the coughing had subsided.

He shrugged. ‘Just a small burn.’

Lizzie felt guilty at having been the reason he was in the burning house to start with.

‘We should let the doctor know you’re awake,’ Daniel said. ‘And your aunt.’

‘Poor Aunt Mathilda, she’s lost her home.’

Lizzie fell silent. She wondered for a moment how the fire had started, whether a candle had been left burning or an ember from a fire had floated on to a nearby piece of furniture. Something was nagging her, dancing around the edge of her consciousness.

‘When you came and got me was the whole house burning?’ Lizzie asked.

Daniel shook his head. ‘No, only upstairs, your room, the couple on either side. There was smoke throughout the house, though.’

Lizzie nodded, carefully trying to keep her face composed. She tried to picture her room just before she had closed her eyes and gone to sleep. She quite clearly remembered blowing out the candle by her bed and lying in the darkness. So it couldn’t have been her who started the fire.

Still something was nagging at her. Forcing herself to maintain her composure, she thought back to what she had seen when the room was on fire. She’d been panicked, more scared than she had ever been before, but she had noticed something.

Suddenly it came to her; there had been another candle in the room. It had been sitting on the small desk by the window, right next to the curtains. Lizzie knew she hadn’t left it burning—in fact, she was sure she hadn’t left the candle there at all.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening again and Aunt Mathilda hurrying in, followed reluctantly by Harriet.

‘Oh, my dear, we were so worried about you—weren’t we, Harriet?’

Harriet nodded vaguely but didn’t make any snide comments.

‘Were you hurt?’ Lizzie asked, quickly running her eyes over both women, looking for injuries.

‘Thankfully, no, we got out whilst the fire was still small.’ Lizzie saw Aunt Mathilda hesitate before continuing. ‘I don’t suppose you have any idea how the fire started, my dear?’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘I remember blowing out my candle before I went to sleep.’

Aunt Mathilda nodded. ‘I just don’t understand how it happened.’

‘Amelia said she doesn’t know anything,’ Harriet said in a tetchy voice.

Everyone in the room turned to Harriet in surprise. The young woman had made it no secret that she was not fond of Lizzie and her defence of her now seemed unnatural.

‘Well, she did,’ Harriet muttered.

‘It really doesn’t matter,’ Aunt Mathilda insisted. ‘The main thing is that you escaped largely unharmed.’

‘What about your poor house?’

The older woman shrugged, but Lizzie could see the tears in her eyes.

‘Please excuse me, I think I’ll go and have a lie-down.’

Aunt Mathilda left the room. Harriet stayed where she was for a moment or two, staring at Lizzie, before she followed her mother out. Just as she reached the door Harriet turned back towards Lizzie.

‘It looks like once again you came out on top. What a surprise. We’ve lost our home and the Eastways have lost nothing.’

‘How strange,’ Daniel murmured.

‘She’s had a shock. They both have. Losing your home must be awful.’

Lizzie felt the tears well up in her eyes and spill out on to her cheeks. Her hands started to shake and the spasms in her chest returned, making her cough. She knew they had all come close to dying. If Daniel hadn’t rushed into the house, there was no doubt she’d be nothing more than a pile of ash.

Daniel was at her side in moments. He took her hand in one of his and stroked her hair with his other. Lizzie closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath.

‘Hush,’ Daniel said. ‘You’re safe now.’

Lizzie nodded, but still the tears kept flowing.

With her eyes still closed Lizzie felt rather than saw the moment Daniel moved to sit on the bed beside her. He scooped her into his arms and held her close to his body. Lizzie felt the warmth of his body against her skin and his touch soothed her. After a few seconds her cough subsided and a minute later the tears followed.

They sat in silence, the rise and fall of their chests following the same rhythm, Daniel’s breath tickling Lizzie’s neck. She felt safe here, ensconced in his arms, protected by his embrace, but even whilst she was enjoying the closeness Lizzie knew it could never last.

Daniel still thought he had rescued Miss Amelia Eastway, most eligible heiress of the season. He might find her plainness and lack of beauty acceptable whilst he thought her rich, but that concession would soon sour once he knew she was almost penniless, a charity case her uncle had taken pity on. She squeezed her eyes tighter shut and wished she could suspend time. She wanted to stay as they were right now, with Daniel’s arms wrapped around her and him thinking she was so much more than she really was.

They sat in silence for ten minutes, all the while Lizzie wished again and again that she was her cousin. She wanted Amelia’s life so badly, not for her money or her confidence, but she wanted to be the kind of woman Daniel could not ignore. Instead of being plain old Lizzie, eternally condemned to be overlooked by everyone, she wanted to be the woman people sat up and took notice of. Time and again at social occasions Lizzie had stood beside her cousin, watching people’s eyes light up as they were introduced to Amelia and then glaze over as they turned to her. Each time that happened the words her uncle had spoken to her as a young girl always flashed back into her mind.

‘You’re plain, Elizabeth, plain and unappealing. Our best hope for you is for a blind man to happen along in search of a wife.’

She’d been seven at the time. A very gangly and ungainly seven-year-old. Her confidence had never recovered.

It didn’t matter that every so often she saw a spark of desire flash in Daniel’s eyes. She knew she would always be plain and unappealing. For years she had told herself she didn’t care that she wasn’t a beauty like Amelia, but that had been before she met Daniel. Now there was someone that she wanted to be desired by she did care. She cared so much it tore her apart.

There was a soft knock on the door and Daniel quickly stood up. Lizzie had to hide a smile. Despite it being his house, they still had to act with propriety.

‘Doctor, thank you for returning.’

‘How is the patient?’ the short bespectacled man asked.

Lizzie managed to croak a short, non-committal sound.

‘Hmm, I see the smoke inhalation has caused some damage to your throat,’ the doctor said. ‘That should recover with rest and fresh air.’

‘She’s coughing a lot,’ Daniel supplied.

The doctor stepped closer to Lizzie, then motioned for Daniel to turn around. Daniel obliged and Lizzie breathed deeply whilst the doctor placed his ear against her back.

‘Rattly, as you would expect,’ he said without further explanation.

They waited as he checked her pulse, got her to stick out her tongue and inspected the back of her throat.

‘No permanent damage,’ the doctor declared eventually. ‘But I would advise a week or two of good, clean country air.’

Daniel showed the doctor out and returned to her bedside.

‘That settles it,’ he said.

Lizzie looked at him questioningly.

‘You can come and recuperate at my country estate. The fresh air will do you good. Your aunt can come along to chaperon you—’

Lizzie opened her mouth to object. A whole week with Daniel away from the world sounded like bliss, but she knew it would make it all that much harder to give him up.

‘No argument, it’s the doctor’s orders.’

Chapter Fourteen

Daniel was whistling to himself as he drew his horse up outside the inn. He loved it when a plan came together. He was currently riding out to his country estate, which he much preferred to London, and in the carriage that was just rolling to a stop behind him was the woman he was going to marry. A few days in the country and he was convinced Amelia would say yes when he proposed. He’d seen her staring at him with dreamy eyes, even if she did look away rather sharply when he looked in her direction. He knew she desired him, that she replayed each kiss they’d shared over and over in her mind. Now he just had to convince her that he liked her, too.

He wasn’t sure when he had warmed quite so much to the idea of having a wife, or more specifically of having Amelia as his wife. True, he still needed her money and he wasn’t going to deny that was the reason he was going to propose, but somewhere along the way he had realised that being married to Amelia would have more advantages than just saving his son.

He liked her. He liked her quiet intelligence and how her gentle tone hid a quick wit. And he knew they certainly had chemistry. Their kisses were proof enough and now it took only one look at her and he was simmering with pent-up desire inside. Marrying Amelia would have the distinct advantage that he could take her to bed. And stay there for a week.

Daniel hopped down from his horse and tried to keep his desire in check. He waited for the carriage to come to a complete halt, then opened the door and prepared to assist the women down.

Amelia came shooting from the carriage as if she were being chased by rabid dogs.

‘Traitor,’ she hissed in his ear.

‘Nice to see you, too, my sweet,’ he whispered back.

Dutifully Daniel helped down Amelia’s aunt and cousin before turning back to escort his future wife inside the inn.

She was already stalking through the door without a backwards glance. Daniel strolled in leisurely after her and found her fuming.

‘You left me,’ Amelia managed to hiss before the other two women joined him.

The first half of their journey that day, the painfully slow slog through London, Daniel had sat in the carriage with the three women. Aunt Mathilda had snoozed almost from the moment she’d sat down. Amelia, sensible girl that she was, had brought a book, but it had appeared that Harriet wasn’t going to give her a single moment to read it. For the awful few hours Daniel had spent in the carriage Amelia’s cousin had snipped at and goaded Amelia until the two young women were almost clawing at each other across the carriage. Daniel had decided at their lunch stop that although he very much enjoyed brushing up against Amelia he couldn’t spend another minute in the carriage with her odious cousin, so he’d opted to ride for the afternoon. He’d spent a most pleasant couple of hours taking in the countryside and imagining all the things he would do to Amelia once they were married and a couple he was planning on doing before.

‘Good evening, my lord,’ the landlord of the coaching inn said deferentially. ‘We received your message and have our finest three rooms ready for you. Shall I show you the way?’

Daniel strode after the landlord, catching Amelia’s arm as he went by and pulling her along beside him. For a moment she resisted, but, sensible girl that she was, she must have realised he had the superior strength and that if she didn’t budge he might do something much more embarrassing such as throw her over his shoulder. Daniel glanced sideways at her and let his mind wander through the possibilities of things he could do to Amelia after hefting her over his shoulder.

‘Here is the first room, sir,’ the landlord said. ‘Your room is just across the hall and the room for the two young ladies is the last on the left.’

If looks could kill, Daniel would have been felled twice. Amelia and Harriet shot daggers in his direction. For a moment he thought about putting the two young women in the same room and locking the door. He had no doubt one would be dead by morning, and in his eyes Amelia was the more intelligent of the two, so she’d be sure to survive.

‘Good landlord,’ Amelia said, sounding like a character from a play, ‘I don’t suppose you have another room going free tonight?’

The landlord’s face fell.

‘But, my lord,’ he said, turning back to Daniel, ‘you only requested three rooms. I’m completely full.’

Daniel gave the poor man a reassuring smile. ‘I did only request three rooms. The fault is all mine.’ He pulled Amelia close to him, momentarily distracted by the adorable way her brow crinkled when she was frowning. ‘You can share with me if you’d rather,’ he murmured.

Amelia sent him a withering stare. Aunt Mathilda must have sensed the content of his whisper and stepped forward.

‘Harriet, you can share with me,’ she announced.

The landlord looked very relieved and slinked away before anyone else could argue, mumbling about dinner being served at seven.

‘I shall call for you ladies just before seven,’ Daniel said, waiting for Aunt Mathilda and Harriet to turn away before giving Amelia a salacious wink.

She was still pretending to be annoyed with him for his disappearing act in the carriage, but even so she couldn’t hide the slight tilt of her lips as she tried to suppress a smile.

Daniel closed the door of his room behind him and flopped down on the bed. He was in a wonderful mood; he loved it when things came together. It would only be a matter of days before he would propose to Amelia and then he would insist on a speedy wedding. With her dowry in his possession he would be able to keep Annabelle at bay a little longer.

The only thing that would make it all better would be to wrest Edward away from Annabelle once and for all. Over the years he had made repeated attempts to convince his ex-lover to give up their son to his care. He had tried appealing to her better nature, explaining Edward would have a good upbringing with him, and then he had resorted to bribing her. Annabelle, however, was an astute woman. She knew she could extract more from Daniel if she kept hold of their son.

So Daniel had sent a man to check on how his boy was doing, to investigate whether she ever treated his son badly, ever raised her hand to him. His agent had reported back that although she seemed a little indifferent to the boy, he was well looked after and the agent had never seen him suffer at her hands.

Daniel had wrestled with his conscience for months. He hadn’t been able to decide whether it would be better to take Edward away from his mother, knowing that it would mean revealing the truth to his son about his illegitimacy, or whether to leave him where he was and shield him from the reality of his birth. Neither was an ideal solution and every day Daniel wondered whether he had made the right choice, but when he faltered and thought about claiming Edward as his own he only had to remember Rupert’s tortured soul and he sat back and remained in the shadows. It was devastating for a boy to know he was illegitimate. More devastating than it was to be raised by a rather distant mother. He would not put his son through that. So Edward stayed with his mother and Daniel continued to pay and torture himself over his decision.

He shook himself from his reverie and glanced at the clock. It was quarter to seven and he had to prepare himself for an evening of wooing Amelia. He grinned. Just two weeks ago the idea of courting a young heiress had made him shudder and wish for any number of alternative torments, but now he was rather looking forward to stealing a kiss from Amelia and causing her to blush, all the while convincing her they would be the perfect match.

At ten to seven he knocked quietly on Amelia’s door. Far from keeping him waiting like most young women would, Amelia eased open the door immediately, looked surreptitiously up and down the corridor, then pulled him inside.

Daniel grinned—she was making the business of seduction so much easier for him. Before she could say a word he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss.

He loved that she couldn’t resist him. Despite having pulled him into her room for a reason, and that reason clearly having nothing to do with seduction, Amelia couldn’t bring herself to break off the kiss.

‘Did you want to say something, my sweet?’ Daniel asked, then kissed her again before she could answer him. She was stiff in his arms but kissed him back with grudging vigour. ‘Maybe my lady would like to compliment me on my riding skills?’ he suggested, then planted his lips firmly on hers before she could get a syllable out. ‘Or maybe my goddess would just like to gaze into my eyes for the few minutes before dinner. I’m happy to oblige.’

This time when he kissed her Amelia managed to pull away, spluttering with indignation.

‘Now, now, my precious gem, don’t go pretending you didn’t enjoy my kisses.’

Amelia was nothing if not fair and she inclined her head, knowing she could not deny that she enjoyed every moment their lips were locked together. After a few seconds she raised her chin and looked at him, her eyes blazing.

‘You abandoned me, then you planned to torture me by making me spend the night with that snake.’

Daniel gave her his most leery grin. ‘I meant it when I said you could spend the night in my room.’

Amelia didn’t even bother to acknowledge his remark.

‘I can’t spend another day cooped up with her. I’ll murder her.’

Daniel didn’t voice his opinion that the world would be better off if Amelia did murder Harriet. She was her cousin, after all, and despite their differences Amelia might object to Daniel insulting her kin.