A Rake's Heart (Count Series) Read online

  At the announcement of their presence, all heads—twenty bodies or more, turned in their direction. Coltin pressed his arm tighter to his sister’s slender one that she had threaded through his at the elbow. She had flinched from the stares sent their way.

  Coltin knew the shocked gazes were directed more at the sight of him rather than her. She had been the one invited, not him. He would not let her suffer any slights because of his attendance.

  His encouraging nudge proved to be just what she needed, for he felt her relax. Then it was his turn to brace himself when he caught the disgruntled expressions of their hosts, the earl and countess. His two old friends stood not far away and he could see the countess bristle at her husband’s side.

  The earl stepped forward. “Ratherton,” he bit out.

  He appeared so angry. Coltin at first thought his old friend was going to break decorum and not acknowledge his sister. Nevertheless, he did, but barely with an askance glance.

  “Lady Darrington. Pardon us, but I must speak with your brother alone. Now.” Then to Coltin, through gritted teeth, the earl said, “Shall we?”

  Coltin arched a brow. “Of course,” he replied. His own words just as hard and he moved to follow after his old friend in the direction he remembered the study to be in.

  “I go where he goes,” Britwen’s fiery announcement stopped them all in their tracks and heads turned back in her direction. “We came together. The invitation did state that I could include a guest, did it not? I was surprised by Coltin’s sudden and unexpected return this afternoon. With such short notice—well, I could not bear to be apart from him on his first night back. Of course, I had to beg him to accept the honor of accompanying me to your dinner party. You do understand, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I’d expect no less,” the countess said, a forced smile upon her lips that Britwen could tell was one of annoyance.

  Enough eyes were upon them all now so Britwen knew Joya would not turn them away. To do so would stir the rumor mills once again.

  Once, she and the countess had been close friends, in the same social circles not too long ago. However, when Robert’s lifestyle became known about Town, Joya seemed to invite her less and less. Soon, weekly afternoon teas dropped to every two weeks to every two months until they’d stopped altogether.

  Brushing aside the tender feelings she still had over the loss of their afternoon banter and friendly companionship, Britwen straightened back her shoulders, swept her gaze around the congested foyer before coming back to rest on the long hallway opposite the grand staircase. “And the soon to be bride…where is she?”

  “Oh!” Joya seemed relieved at the shift of conversation. “She’s running behind,” the countess said.

  Britwen thought that odd. She had thought she’d caught a glimpse of Fairly’s deep blonde head, partially covered by a dark cap, just moments ago standing at the end of the long hallway. Now, however she didn’t spot the younger woman anywhere. Britwen covered her soft scoff with the back her hand at that thought. She was but a year older than Miss Fairly Synclair herself. “Is she always late?” she asked.

  “Prompt is not a word I use often in the same sentence with my ward’s name, if you will.”

  “Sort of the same thing we used to say about you, you mean?”

  A true smile and flush to her beautiful face made the countess look like the lady Britwen remembered and not the cold one who had met them moments ago. “Ah, too true, I fear,” Joya said.

  Britwen pushed her luck. “And has marriage to the earl changed that?”

  A mischievous look of old whenever they’d gotten into trouble deepened the color in the countess’ cheeks. “Oh no, never. He says I’m absolutely dreadful and that I’ll probably be late to his funeral.”

  Britwen, touched by the warm press of her old friend’s hand against her forearm, covered it with her own in turn. The countess smiled warmly then slipped her arm through hers at the elbow.

  “I’ve missed our al fresco teas and conversations, terribly. I’ve missed you, Britwen.”

  Britwen blinked back warm tears and pressed her arm tighter to her old friend’s. “Me too,” she managed to utter around the lump of emotion in her throat.

  “Come now,” the countess said with a sniff as she patted her hand. A quiet moment passed, then she grinned. Britwen smiled. Time gone seemed to have slipped away and it was like old times once again. It felt good.

  Joya continued, “Come, our delightful ward will be down shortly, I’m certain of it. In the meantime, let me show you the new additions we’ve made to some of the rooms since you were last here while the guests mingle and before the dinner feast starts.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Coltin stared at his old friend’s broad back where Edward now stood at the window behind his desk. Old friends they were—a year apart and much between them.

  Edward had been a young heir apparent when his father had passed away too soon of the ague. His mother had followed the subsequent year, and the young Edward had been thrust into his title and responsibilities at fifteen. The longtime family solicitor had managed much of the duties and finances in keeping with his word to Edward’s father. The attorney, a good man, also passed on soon after Edward’s marriage to Miss Joya Haverton.

  The earl was aware of the stolen night Coltin had shared with his ward.

  The unfortunate predicament that had befallen him when he and Fairly had found themselves saddled with a maimed horse after a pleasant afternoon ride. Torrential rains, flooding and lightning forced them to seek shelter in the old ruin of a cottage on Sutton’s property. After their one night stay and getting caught, scandal and flapping tongues had brought back a tale of lies and assumptions.

  The fact that there was no truth behind the outrageous rumors had little bearing for the elite of the ton. It was far easier and much more inciting to enjoy the downfall of another. It kept the gossip off their own indiscretions and closet full of skeletons.

  Edward had not turned his back on him once in the years since. Therefore, his ire today stunned Coltin. As soon as the door to the study had closed behind them, the earl had poured them both a spot of first-rate whisky.

  Edward had thrown his down his gullet in a single gulp, then had slammed down the one he’d offered him so hard atop the desk that the gold-colored liquid had splashed over the rim and onto the surface of the polished to a shine cherry wood desk. Then they had glared at one another without a word spoken.

  Edward had turned from him to the look out the window. Coltin was not fooled. The bloody drapes were closed and he doubted that the earl, known for his impeccable eyesight, could even see through the burgundy cloth to see a single damn thing. Coltin lifted the glass of whisky, swiped the wet bottom off and shook his hand before he took a deep sip. He would wait. The earl would collect himself soon enough.

  And he did.

  “Your lack of responses to my latest correspondence was off-putting. Then you dare just drop a hat and waltz through the door.” He whirled and leveled a cool glare. “Damn you, Coltin.”

  So that was it. Coltin returned his glare. “I read each one. I wanted to respond,” he admitted the startling truth.

  “Then why didn’t you?” the earl shot back.

  Coltin shrugged. “I-I couldn’t.”

  Edward scoffed and leaned forward. “You couldn’t? What the bloody hell!”

  “Right. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Then I found myself on a ship and back here. I didn’t come to start trouble.”

  Edward shot him another dark look. “And our friend? How is he?” he asked aside, his words clipped.

  Coltin blinked at the fast throw in conversation. Then angrily replied, “Over indulgence in all things yet.”

  “That life will kill him.”

  “Yes. Even if your letter had not come, I would not have been there much longer.”

  Edward arched a skeptical brow at his words. “Perhaps a letter to his brother might be in order
. Although I’m not sure how much good that’ll do. Nevertheless, it’s a start. Now back to you. Do not begin our renewed friendship with more untruths. You would not be here if your aim was not to start trouble.” The earl blew out an aggravated breath.

  “Could I not be here for other reasons? Like perhaps to see old friends and enjoy a great meal from one of the best cooks in town I know of?”

  “If you are not here to stop this sham of a wedding, then I guess I misjudged you, old friend, and don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

  Coltin nearly spit out the whisky he had quickly been trying to down. The earl turned shrewd eyes upon him and declared, “I thought as much.”

  Coltin cleared his throat. “How did you know?” he asked his voice scratchy and hoarse from choking.

  Edward arched a dark brow. “I know you. You read the letters, as I knew you would. I knew if anything could get your stubborn arse back here, it would be the threat of someone else taking the woman you care about from you. Despite your stung pride, even you wouldn’t allow that to happen. It worked. I know what she means to you even though you’ve yet to admit it. I remember that night like it was yesterday.”

  Coltin’s brows dipped into a frown. “As do I. After all this time, I would have thought the memory would’ve faded. But it only seems to have grown stronger, more vivid in these past three years.”

  “And yet, somehow you still managed to stay away.”

  Crickets. The two men shared dark knowing looks. Coltin’s cheeks flamed guiltily.

  The earl looked away and said compassionately, “Well, so we have it. She’s late as usual and knowing Fairly, she will take the backstairs to avoid being greeted at the dining hall entrance and escorted to her seat by her fiancé. The young bugger has not yet arrived either.”

  Coltin released a pensive breath. He didn’t care to discuss the young lord. “And Joya? She did not look pleased.”

  Edward’s face darkened at the veer in conversation. “We don’t talk about you much.”

  “Avoidance, eh?” Coltin scoffed.

  “It was for the best. Your name is like a match to fire arguments I cannot win with my wife.”

  Coltin felt contrite. “For that I am sorry, Edward. Truly. You’ve been a stout good friend to me.”

  Edward acknowledged the statement with a slight nod, then clearing his throat, he clasped his hands together. “Come, old friend, we’ve a few moments left to quickly catch up on what else you’ve been up to in the last six months that has kept you too busy to respond to my letters. Then I shall leave you at the rear staircase to take—uh, make the most important decision of your life. Or walk away.”

  Coltin swallowed the refilled glass of whisky the earl handed him. Edward placed his empty glass next to his as he rounded the desk. Coltin humbly uttered the words, “Thank you.”

  Coltin clenched and unclenched his fists as he paced to and fro in the ample space at the base of the rear stairs that separated the kitchen and the hall leading to the living quarters. His mind awhirl, thinking of what Edward had said.

  His friend well understood his situation. For Earl Sutton had he himself been in a like predicament before he’d wed the countess at the young buck age of twenty-one. Coltin’s lip curled up at one side recalling their younger days, the rakes they’d been during their last years at Oxford.

  Now here he stood, ready to take hold of his future. He stopped his mad pacing and glanced up the long narrow staircase for the tenth time. A cunning smile turned up one corner of his mouth. Teaching Fairly about the nature of being on time would be one of many things he looked forward to, among several others.

  A sound turned him around and Coltin found himself staring down at the petite, red-haired, freckled-faced, flustered woman blinking up at him. A struck dumb expression upon her pretty face as she struggled to keep what looked like a bundle of rags from tumbling out of her arms. A futile attempt for a few escaped to the floor.

  Coltin bent and picked up the pieces of cloth and tucked them securely around the top of the pile she carried. “You have it all?” he asked, flashing a half-smile.

  A shocked gasp exploded from her mouth, then she seemed to collect herself, nodded vigorously and replied. “Yes, my lord. Thank you. Are you lost?”

  Coltin chuckled lightly. “No,” he answered.

  The woman eyed him openly and quite thoroughly in a way, he’d never seen a servant do before when facing their betters. More times than not their faces were averted, their eyes downcast. It didn’t bother him insomuch as it roused his curiosity. Something unspoken had just occurred between them. However, he wasn’t sure what it was just yet.

  After her inquisitive once over of the man in front of her, Minna suspected the lord thought her quite bold in her open assessment. She could get in trouble for it but she had a feeling. One she could not ignore.

  He was dark. A dangerous air floated about him. Strikingly handsome in his tailored fawn-colored waistcoat and matching trousers.

  The way he kept looking away and back up the stairs sent bells to ringing off inside her head. There could only be one reason.

  Feeling giddy inside and feeling that it was the right thing to do, Minna gave a swift curtsy and moved to walk past the tall elegantly dressed lord. As she did, she leaned in close. “Pardon me, my lord. If you hurry, you might catch her before she leaves the stables,” she whispered.

  Coltin turned to interrogate her further, but the petite maid had already disappeared around the corner. Voices of newly arriving guests drifted down the hall and galvanized him into action.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The stable hands were too busy with the arriving carriages and taking orders from the stable master to pay much attention to her as Fairly settled the satchel she’d hastily packed and now secured to the side of the saddle of her mount. Her treasured sable-colored stallion nickered recognizing its master. Fairly spoke in a hushed gentle tone as she rubbed its alert ears. “We have to be quiet, Bea.”

  In the next few moments, she had them both out of the stall without a sound and behind the stables in the gloomy twilight. A small number of stars occupied the sky tonight and the moon was not very generous with its normally illuminating essence. The crescent moon hid its spare light behind a cloudy night sky.

  Guilt stung her heart at what she was about to do. The many lights running along the grand stone veranda of the mansion’s rear gave a good view of the going ons inside. Through the perfectly manicured hedges and through the tall white-paned windows, Fairly could see many of the guests mingling about in the dining room.

  All people—strangers, really, including all of Pierce’s friends and his parents, were here for the celebratory dinner.

  Before the wedding in two days.

  That thought made her choke and Fairly forgot about her guilt. One day her guardians would forgive her. They had to. Didn’t they?

  As for Pierce? Well, she had lived through one scandal. She imagined she would survive another. Only this time it would hurt less because she didn’t fancy herself in love with Pierce. So unlike how the situation had been with Coltin.

  Him—she had loved. Still loved.

  Eyes stinging with unshed tears, she spoke quietly to Bea, then mounted.

  Coltin spotted Fairly’s mounted form slipping past the short metal gate that closed off hedgerows and lines of fruit trees. Had he been a second later, he would’ve missed her. He would have to thank that red-haired maid one day.

  The path she was about to take, he knew all too well. Their night together three years ago out there in the forest. Steeling himself against the old memory that flashed through his mind and made his loins stir, Coltin focused on the matter at hand.

  He watched her now from where he stood hidden under the overhang branches of a tree next to the stable. At first, he thought she’d spotted him, but he saw that her head was turned more toward the direction of the mansion. It was too dark to see her expression from his vantage point, but not too dark t
o see the rest of her.

  Her hair, her clothes, the riding costume—all wrong. Not something a woman befitting her station would wear. She wore dark breeches that blended in with the night and against the horses’ dark coat, a dark shirt to match, and a dark cap pulled down over her crown. A long fat blonde braid, sectioned off by short ties, lay flat against her back.

  He realized then that she was not dressed for a spur-of-the moment last minute night ride for some fresh air. The lady was making a daring escape. Coltin could not stop the grin that came to his lips.

  The lovely Lady Fairly Synclair was making an escape. The conspicuous bulge of her sack beside her thigh, confirmed it. Then just like that, she trotted off.

  Pivoting on his heel, Coltin raced inside the stables to get a horse. He chose a gray beauty. Then, with a quick glance over his shoulder at the rear of Canville’s Mansion, he pressed his knees to the horse and hastened the beautiful animal into a fast trot after the fleeing adversary.

  Lost in thought, Fairly came out of her head at a noise near her flank. Someone was behind her. Just a few feet to where the acres of the Canville mansion ended. She heard the ground move beneath her. Bea’s ears went straight.

  Too afraid to chance a glance over her shoulder, she pushed Bea into a full out gallop. Whoever was in pursuit of her would be hard-pressed to catch up, for Bea was like the wind, and the second fastest horse inside Sutton stables save for the earl’s own magnificent gray beast.

  Soon Fairly realized her assumption was correct. The sound of hooves pounding the soft earth behind her came closer and closer. Closing the distance at a surprising and alarming speed.

  Shoulders slumping in defeat, she shook her head in disbelief. Dammit! She did not think the earl would have noticed her absence so soon. Let alone come after her.

  Fairly slowed, steered Bea off to the side between four ancient oak trees and wheeled the big horse around to face her guardian. She dismounted slowly. Dread and disappointment welled up inside her as she bit back the hot tears that rushed forth.