Page 24 of Wickedly Yours
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His Grace, Nicholas Tremaine, the Duke of Dunbar had lingered in his study after dinner, expecting his sister and Malden to arrive at some point this evening. According to gossip, the pair weren’t terribly far from London, and he thought only bad weather had delayed their return. The same he and Jem had experienced while traveling from Scotland.
After dinner, Nick ordered his pregnant wife up the stairs to bed. Well, ordered being somewhat of a stretch. One did not order Jem about. She’d wished to stay with him to await Arabella’s return, even attempting a bribe in the form of a fencing challenge. If he won, she would bow to his wishes and go to bed. As with most things concerning his duchess, there was a catch. Jem would fence only in her chemise, which guaranteed his loss. He wouldn’t be paying the least bit of attention to his form, only toherform.
Nick reminded her, rather sternly, of her delicate condition. He would join her in a bit after speaking to his sister and Malden. Jem and Arabella detested each other and if they were both present, any discussion was bound to dissolve into a fight. And Nick wished the truth for the situation was beyond comprehension.
Then there was Malden.
The news of his sister’s abduction greeted he and Jem as they alit at Dunbar House. Jem was beside herself as they’d missed the ball celebrating the marriage of Lord and Lady Kilmaire. They’d been forced to stay an extra day at the home of Baron Kelso, Nick’s cousin, due to Jem’s aversion to the bouncing of the coach. Spence was not in residence but in India, nonetheless, Nick commandeered the place, worried for Jem and the baby’s health.
Peabody greeted he and Jem, tearful and wringing his hands like one of those plump matrons who’d lost their dogs in Hyde Park. He was surprised to find that Aunt Maisy was also in residence. His dearly loved aunt floated down the stairs just in time to collapse into a fit of tears. She babbled and sobbed, her words making little sense until she said ‘Corbett’. Nick surmised the rest.
Peabody, hands shaking, produced a note from Malden, Jem’s cousin. Malden had conveniently been visiting at the time of Aunt Maisy’s arrival, apparently to warn Nick that Corbett was still in England. According to Malden’s note, he’d had no choice but to go after Arabella in Nick’s absence.
There were constables, bow street runners and Dunbar solicitors aplenty. Malden didnothave to go after Arabella himself even with Aunt Maisy begging him. No sane man would. The fact Maldenhadgone after Arabella was particularly interesting to Nick. Malden was one of the sanest men in London which made his behavior all the stranger.
As Nick sought to comfort his weeping aunt and Jem took Peabody’s hand to calm the older man, Nick caught the eye of his wife. Understanding passed between them. Arabellacouldhave orchestrated her own kidnapping. She was nothing if not consistent in her machinations. But Aunt Maisy denied such a thing. Arabella hadfoughtagainst the footman, Barker, as he’d pulled her from the coach. And she’d had to beg Lord Malden to go after Arabella. A bow street runner could not be trusted with such a delicate operation. Discretion was necessary to protect Arabella’s reputation.
Apparently, Malden hadnotbeen discreet enough if the torrent of cards left by callers was any indication. The gossips in London were whispering that Arabella was quiteruined. And byMaldenno less.
“Nick. You’re home.” His sister looked exhausted but otherwise unharmed. Arabella halted as she walked in the study, frowning as she considered his greeting. “Betrothed?” She snuck a look at Malden who followed her slender form at a distance. “Whatever are you talking about? If you are attempting to be amusing, you’ve missed the mark.”
“Miss Lavinia Woodstock.” Nick sucked the whiskey through his teeth. He did so enjoy whiskey.
“Lavinia Woodstock?” Arabella’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t —”
“Come now, don’t you remember her for she certainly recalls you.” He was deliberately being vague with Arabella, wondering how she would explain herself.
“Oh, yes. From school. A terrible girl. Something was always wrong with her skin for she itched constantly. I caught her stealing the cream Aunt Maisy sent me to keep me from getting freckles. What has she to do with anything?”
“She has announced your betrothal to theton.” He took pleasure in watching his sister’s face redden. “Or rather, yourruination. Miss Woodstock observed you and Malden at a coaching inn together. You were in a disheveled state and wearing Malden’s coat around your shoulders.”
Malden gave Nick an exhausted look but seemed otherwise unbothered by the accusation.
“Corbett…he…ripped my dress.” Arabella choked out.
“Thankfully, Miss Woodstock was oblivious to your…abduction.At least from Corbett. There was absolutely no mention of him.”
Betting at White’s had been brisk on the reason why Lord Malden, one of the most eligible bachelors of thetonwould be spotted in the company of Lady Arabella Tremaine. No one could fathom Malden in a scandalous liaison with Arabella.
Nick couldn’t imagine such a thing himself.
Malden, a man whom Nick considered a friend and who rarely lacked a smile, was not smiling now. “How nice to see you, Your Grace. I did my best to protect your sister’s reputation. I assume you’ve come up with an explanation to keep thetonat bay?”
Nick nodded. He would discuss the details with Malden in a moment. “I assume Corbett is dead?”
Arabella entered the study, her body folding down into the leather couch across from him, like a tiny ship whose sails were suddenly devoid of wind. “Everyone thinks that Malden and I…” Her face reddened further, and her hand twitched against her skirts.
Nick studied his sister carefully. Something wasdifferentwith Arabella, for she wasn’t arguing with him nor flinging insults around the room. Most disturbing of all, there were no death threats to Miss Woodstock.
“Corbett is quite dead, Your Grace. I saw the body.” Malden looked as exhausted as Arabella, perhaps even more so. Dust covered his coat and bits of muck fell from his boots. “I long to take credit for his demise but cannot. The idiot fell out the window and broke his neck. The constable, MacLauren, has filed a report. He will likely seek you out to confirm my rescue of Arabella was with your blessing and I had not kidnapped her myself.” Malden ran a hand through his hair and Nick watched, fascinated, as his sister’s eyes followed the movement. “I asked to have him buried. I will leave it to you and Jemma whether you wish to inform Corbett’s sister.”
“Nick—” Arabella whispered looking nearly as lost as she had when their parents died.
He held up a hand. “I wish to hear the story from Malden. You have a habit of garnishing the truth, Bella.”
His sister’s eyes narrowed, but she did not snap at him. Nor argue. Completely out of character for Bella. Arguing was how he and Arabella communicated.
