Eight for Losing, One for Loving (Wicked Sons #9)

Chapter 5

Dear Larkin,

I’m not sure you’ll get this in time, but I’m in a bit of a fix. Actually, Vi and I are in a good deal of trouble. Mau has been taken and we are in pursuit of the kidnappers. Now we’re stuck overnight in the backend of beyond and I’m terrified someone will see Vi with me. She’ll be ruined and then she’ll never marry me, stubborn creature that she is, because she’ll think everyone will believe she must. I never knew a woman more contrary. I know I can count on your discretion, old man. For the love of God, get down here with her maid, and if you can manage it, her mama too. I know it will be devilish awkward for you, but Kitty is a no-nonsense sort, so if you explain things carefully, it will all be fine. Kitty will know how to deal with things before the entire world thinks I’m the sort of fellow who goes about ruining ladies of quality.

We’re staying at the Queen’s Head in Tadlow. The Vicar, the Reverend Harbottle, is helping us search for Mau, though he believes we are married. His sister owns the inn, and we are signed in as Mr and Mrs Huntington.

I’m paying a young man an exorbitant fee to ride through the night and get this to you by morning. I pray you are sober enough to do as I request. Please, Larkin, Vi is depending on you, little does she know it, and so am I.

―Excerpt of a letter from Mr Leo Hunt (Son of Alice and Nathanial Hunt) to The Hon’ble Larkin Weston (Son of The Right Hon’ble Solomon ‘Solo’ and Jemima Weston, Baron and Baroness Rothborn).

24 th June 1850, The Queen’s Head, Wrestlingworth, the Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire border.

The Queen’s Head was a handsome, red brick building and Leo felt a surge of relief at finding it was everything the vicar had suggested. Window boxes adorned the facade, planted up with bright flowers and moonlight reflected off the gleaming glass behind them. Inside, they were greeted politely by the reverend’s sister, who looked askance at their lack of baggage until Leo explained that her brother had sent them.

“We’ve had a bit of a mishap,” Leo explained, in no mood to get into a long-winded tale about Egyptian Water Sphinxes at this time of night. He was tired and hungry and horribly aware he would need his wits about him for the coming night. “Your brother is helping us, but thought we would do well to come here for the night. He is to meet us here in the morning.”

The landlady, a Mrs Caruthers, relaxed in the light of this information. She was a pleasantly plump woman in her late fifties with the ruddy complexion of a woman who spent long hours in the kitchen. “Oh, well, if Archie thinks it’s all right, then of course I shall welcome you,” she said with a sigh. “Only one must be so careful. We’re a respectable house, we are, but you’d be surprised at the sorts who try to book a room. Pretending to be married,” she added confidentially, mouthing the words behind her hand to Leo so she did not shock Vi.

“Indeed,” Leo said gravely, praying the woman never discovered the truth. “Shocking.”

“Well, it is,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what the world is coming to with such goings on, but not in my inn! Now then, Mr Caruthers would normally greet you and show you up, but he’s indisposed tonight—his gout is playing him up—but as you’ve no baggage to carry, perhaps I might just give you your key, for I’m run off my feet, truth be told.”

“Certainly,” Leo said, giving her his most winning smile as she handed the key over.

“It’s our best room,” she told him, responding to his smile with a warm expression that crinkled her eyes. “A nice big comfy bed and there’s a lovely view, though you’ll only appreciate that in the morning.”

“Thank you kindly,” Leo said, aware that Vi had turned a startling shade of scarlet at the mention of the ‘nice big comfy bed,’ and was eager to get her away from the woman before Mrs Caruthers noticed and got suspicious.

“There’s a lamb stew for dinner, and apple pie,” she added, looking enquiringly at them.

“Yes, perfect. In our rooms, if you don’t mind. And perhaps a hot bath?” Leo added, placing a generous pile of coins on the counter between them.

“Oh! Yes, sir. Certainly, sir, I’ll see to it at once,” the woman replied, beaming at his generosity, calling for the attention of a passing serving maid in the light of such munificence. “Jenny, leave that a moment. Run up to the rose chamber and light the candles and turn the bed down, there’s a good girl. If you’d like to follow Jenny, sir, she’ll show you the way.”

Leo nodded but went to speak to Norton first. “Arrange your dinner and a room, but then I want you to leave at first light and return to town. Explain everything to Lady Trevick,” he said, handing Norton enough coin to cover the expense of such a journey. “I shall send a messenger to Mr Weston which will arrive before you do, but just in case he is in no fit state to help me, I should like a backup.”

“Yes, sir,” Norton said, understanding at once. “I’ll bring a change of clothes and the like for you too, sir.”

“Good man,” Leo said in approval before turning and guiding Vi away and towards the stairs as Jenny darted quickly ahead of them. “Come, lady wife,” he murmured. “Let us investigate that nice, big, comfy bed.”

It was wicked of him, but he could not help but feel she deserved a little retribution for landing him in this fix. He had no doubt who it was would shoulder the blame should they be discovered. He would bear it too, and gladly, if only she would marry him.

Fat chance .

He glanced at Vi to see how this sally had been swallowed, expecting a frosty glare of indignation, and was startled to see something else entirely in her gaze. Speculation, or was that curiosity, glinted in her eyes and a little sliver of apprehension slid down his spine.

Following in Jenny’s wake, they were guided to the rose chamber, which was aptly named. The door opened on well-oiled hinges and showed them a clean, spacious room with whitewashed walls upon which a deft hand had painted simple but recognisable pink roses. The roses climbed extravagantly over beams and around an enormous four-poster bed, over which was a counterpane likewise embellished with embroidered pink cabbage roses and hung with bed curtains in a printed rose fabric. A vase of fresh roses in varying shades from pale blush to shocking fuchsia sat on a small table by the window, their sweet scent perfuming the room. Leo blanched, a little overwhelmed by the excessive amounts of pink, but Vi seemed utterly charmed so he relaxed, pleased that she was content with the room at least.

Jenny hurried to light the lamps, draw the curtains and turn down the bed. “Will you be wanting a fire, sir?”

It was a warm night, but Leo looked to Vi, who shook her head, much to his relief. He had no desire to sleep in a sauna, which the room would surely become with a fire and a bath.

“No, thank you, but a cold bottle of your best white wine would be appreciated,” he told her, giving her a generous tip as she grinned at him and bobbed a curtsey. “Yes, sir.”

Jenny went out, closing the door behind her and Leo turned back to Vi, who was regarding the huge bed with an arrested expression.

“Second thoughts, pet?” he asked her casually, setting his hat and gloves down on top of the chest of drawers beside him.

“Not in the least,” she said briskly. “There’s room for an army in that thing,” she added, nodding at the bed.

“Well, certainly fifty dozen roses, at least,” he remarked.

She laughed at that and glanced back at him. “Do you hate it? I find the effect quite charming.”

“It’s not to my taste, but if it pleases you, I am in alt, sweet,” he said, wondering how far he could push his luck with the pet names. He had promised to treat her as he would his mistress, after all. She had apparently decided to ignore such endearments, for she made no remark, only untying her bonnet.

“I wonder if the excellent Mrs Caruthers could do something with my frock?” she asked, looking at the dust and creases upon the fetching gown with dismay.

“Why don’t you take it off and I’ll have Jenny see to it when she comes back with the wine?” Leo said, a challenging glint in his eyes. Now, surely that would get a reaction, he thought, bracing himself for the fallout. None came.

“Very well,” she said, casting her discarded bonnet down on the bed with her gloves. “You’ll have to help me, though, for the buttons are all in the back.”

Leo froze, certain he must have misunderstood as she undid the short jacket and laid it over the back of a chair. She stood waiting, her hands on her hips. Leo stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. Could she?

She glanced over her shoulder at him a moment later, her expression one of impatience. “Well? What’s wrong? Have you forgotten how to undo buttons? From what I hear, you’ve had practise enough.”

“No,” Leo said carefully, his heart beating too fast, and what exactly had she heard? “Have you forgotten I’m not your maid?”

She looked back at him again, giving him a swift look up and down. “No. I’ve not forgotten. Rachel is much smaller than you, but at least twice as wide. I’m simply not that forgetful.”

“Really?” he demanded incredulously, temper rising now. What was she thinking? “For you seem to have forgotten who you are. Have you taken leave of your senses? You are alone in a bedroom with a man.”

“No, I’m alone in a bedroom with you , Leo. That’s quite different,” she said coolly, not looking at him.

Leo reared back as if she’d slapped him. “I beg your pardon? What the devil is that supposed to mean?”

She let out a long-suffering sigh and shook her head. “Oh, good heavens, I meant no insult to your manly pride. I only meant that I trust you. I know you would do nothing I did not wish for you to do, and we are to be here all night, and you did order a bath. Did you suppose I would get into it fully dressed?”

“No,” he said, somewhat mollified. “I supposed I would get Jenny to help you undress and make myself scarce while you bathed.”

“Ah. Then you only offered to give her my gown when she returns to rile me,” she suggested with the lift of one eyebrow.

Leo shrugged, feeling like a boy caught with his fingers in a biscuit tin.

“And when you bathed?” she asked with interest, for they both knew she could not go downstairs unescorted. “What was your plan for that eventuality?”

“I assumed you would look the other way,” he said irritably, though if he were entirely honest, he’d rather hoped she might peek.

“I see. Well, Jenny and Mrs Caruthers are clearly run off their feet, so you may help me,” she said, turning away from him once more. He wondered if he detected a tremor in her voice, but she looked entirely cool and poised. He, on the other hand, was not. The idea of laying his hands on Vi and undressing her was doing terrible things to his composure. Before he could decide how or what to do with the vexing woman, there was a knock at the door.

He opened it to find Jenny bearing a tray. “Your wine, sir. Mrs Caruthers said it’s Mr Caruthers’ best. An excellent Portuguese hock, medium dry, from Bucelas,” she recited, obviously having been told just what to say.

“Thank you, Jenny. How long until dinner?” Leo asked.

“Missus said it will be up directly, so I reckon about ten minutes.”

Leo nodded. “My wife needs her gown freshened up. Can you…?”

Jenny, who he had noticed regarding Vi’s stylish outfit with obvious interest, nodded at once. “Yes, sir. I can see to it. Should the lady like me to assist her?”

“She would,” Leo said at once and with relief. “And is it possible you have something suitable to lend her? We did not expect to be away overnight, you see.”

“Oh,” Jenny said, this apparently not so simple a request. “I have something I can lend her, I suppose, but it’s not very fine, I’m afraid. Not what she’ll be used to.”

“It will be perfect,” Leo assured her, opening the door. “Come in and I shall leave you ladies to your tasks. Call me when all is in order,” he said with a wink, making the girl blush.

“Yes, sir,” she said with a giggle, carrying the wine inside as Leo made himself scarce.

“Coward,” Vi muttered crossly as Leo closed the door behind him.

“Beg pardon, madam?” Jenny said, looking at her in confusion.

“Nothing, Jenny. Might I have some of that wine, please?”

Jenny nodded and poured her a glass before hurrying out again to fetch whatever item of clothing she had in mind for Vi to borrow.

Vi sat on the bed, sipping the wine and considering what to do next. She wondered if Leo was right and she had taken leave of her senses, but as she went through her options again, she decided it was an entirely sensible decision. She had known in the back of her mind that she would never marry, though she had not allowed herself to face the prospect head on until recently. It had been Leo who had made her face it too, by demanding to know why she rejected every man who showed an interest in her. He had accused her of refusing them because she only wanted him, which Vi had denied strenuously. Of course she had. But once alone, with his words ringing in her ears, she’d had to consider them seriously and discovered he was right, damn him. She wanted Leo or no one, and as Leo was out of reach—if she did not want to spend the rest of her days in a state of constant anxiety and likely misery too—then no one it was.

She’d thought she’d made peace with her decision, though the idea of having no children of her own was a sharp stab of regret in her heart. Even if she married now, she was likely too old to produce any babies, though, another reason she must not marry Leo, for he ought to be a father. He’d be a fine one once he grew up himself. She discovered there were other aspects of her spinsterhood which she was less sanguine about than she’d perhaps realised before, though, and now, through no fault of her own, she could do something about it. Fate had given her a once in a lifetime chance to take something for herself before she settled down to a respectable existence as an old maid. Supposing Leo could be persuaded to go along with her plan.

Vi looked down at the empty glass, rather surprised to discover she had drunk the contents. Well, that might be the best idea. Another glass might give her courage, though she must take care not to appear foxed, or else Leo would accuse her of not being in her right mind. So, she poured herself another glass and sipped at it until Jenny returned.

“Here we go, miss,” she said, holding up a clean but rather worn cotton nightgown. It’s not what you’ll be used to, I’m afraid,” she said apologetically.

“It’s perfect, Jenny,” Vi assured her, though privately she lamented the lack of lace or ribbons. She could have done with something a bit more seductive to help her entice Leo, for she did not have the greatest confidence her own attractions were enough to tempt him. Still, she had heard it said that men were not precisely choosy if a woman was free with her charms, so perhaps he would overlook such an unflattering item of bedwear.

Jenny helped Vi out of her travel-worn garments with deft hands and hurried away with the billowing pile of fabric, leaving Vi to regard herself in the mirror on the dressing table.

“Oh dear,” she murmured, for she ought to have considered that Jenny was not of the same shape as she, the girl being rather less well-endowed in the bust and hips. Still, there was no help for it now, as there was a knock and Leo entered the room.

“Dinner is on the way up,” he said cheerfully. “Did Jenny find—”

He broke off as Vi turned, staring at her with an expression she could not read.

Reminding herself forcefully of what her aim was tonight, Vi unlocked her hands from over her bust and watched dubiously as Leo’s gaze roamed over her. Colour crested his high cheekbones, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“Christ,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Vi felt her own colour rise as she considered what she had seen in the looking glass, for the cotton was soft and thin from age and washing and was nigh on sheer. Clinging against her breasts and hips, it left little to the imagination, the darker shapes of her nipples clearly defined.

A knock at the door broke the strange, prickling atmosphere and Leo almost jumped out of his skin, tearing his gaze from her. Before Vi could ask what he was doing, he pulled the counterpane from the bed and wrapped it tightly around her, guiding her to the chair and sitting her down in it.

“Don’t move,” he told her, his blue eyes strangely electric in the lamplight as he gazed down at her.

Vi almost demanded how he expected her to do so as she was sat upon the outer fold with her arms trapped inside the layers. She felt like a large caterpillar. Leo turned away before she had the chance, however, and stalked to the door, pulling it open.

“Dinner, sir.”

“Bring it in,” Leo said, nodding at Jenny and another maid, an older woman this time, perhaps in her early thirties. She stared at Leo with unashamed interest as they came into the room and arranged the plates and dishes on the round table by the window. Her gaze also took in Vi, biting her lip against a giggle as she saw her looking like an overstuffed mummy. Vi did not doubt she was wondering how or why such a handsome fellow had caught himself such a homely wife and blushed harder than ever. Well, at least it illustrated very nicely why marrying Leo would be fraught with anxiety and never give her a moment's peace.

Leo tipped the girls, apparently oblivious to the older woman’s flirtatious glance, which made Vi feel somewhat better. He closed the door after them and turned back, gazing abstractedly at the dishes on the table in silence.

“Are you proposing to feed me?” Vi asked, remembering too late she was intending to seduce him and regretting her caustic tone. “Perhaps I’ll turn into a butterfly.”

“Eh?” he said, turning to her. “Oh, beg pardon.” He moved towards her and then stopped, staring down at her with an odd look in his eyes.

“Leo,” Vi said, striving for a softer tone than she was feeling. “I can’t move. Please help me up and unwrap me.”

“Unwrap you,” he repeated, an unsteady note to his voice.

“Yes, my arms are trapped and—,” she complained and then remembered she couldn’t seduce him and berate him at the same time and tried for a winning smile that felt stiff and odd.

The expression seemed to disturb him, for he took a step back. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

Good lord, he was thinking of leaving her this way.

“Of course it isn’t for the best!” she retorted, before reminding herself once more that starting a row and vexing him was not the best start to a seduction. “Please, Leo,” she said sweetly.

Leo narrowed his eyes at her. “Why are you being nice?”

“I am nice,” she said, aggrieved.

“No,” he shook his head. “You are only sweet and docile on the surface, underneath you are temperamental, demanding, and full of fire.”

“I am not!” she said indignantly.

He only returned a smug smile.

“Fine!” she snapped. Odious man. She would simply have to free herself. Vi tried to stand, only to sit heavily down again. Avoiding Leo’s eye, for she did not doubt he was smirking at her expense, she tried again, throwing her weight forward to keep herself upright. Sadly, she overdid it. The quilted fabric bunched about her feet, and she stumbled forwards, crashing into Leo. He staggered but caught her and might have righted them both if he’d grasped the bedpost and not the curtain beside it. As it was, there was the curtain broke free of its hooks, and they both fell in a heap on the floor. Leo landed heavily, cursing as they went. Padded on all sides as she was, Vi took no harm and simply unravelled, rolling off Leo as the counterpane released her. She lay beside him, gasping.

“Well,” she said. “That will teach you.”

The situation struck her then as being the most ridiculous she had ever encountered, and she laughed.

“Have you been drinking?” Leo’s terse voice muttered from the floor beside her. He sat up, rubbing his right elbow, which must have struck the floor first.

“N-Not enough,” Vi remarked, and dissolved. She laughed heartily, sitting up with an effort, and then her laughter died as Leo turned and their eyes met. The counterpane had released her, and her nightgown had ridden up, exposing her legs. Leo’s face hardened, and he looked away.

“Cover yourself up,” he said coldly, and got to his feet, stalking away to the bottle of wine and pouring himself a drink.

Vi swallowed, any urge to laugh vanishing. Though she told herself not to be such an imbecile, tears pricked at her eyes all the same. She had never understood why Leo had wanted to marry her, having few illusions about her charms. Yes, she was well enough, but already past her best and her looks had faded. What benefit he would gain from marrying her when he could have any beautiful young woman he wanted, she could not fathom. They weren’t even proper friends, not really, not when she vexed him so often. They had been once though, when they were children, and she could only believe it was some strange sense of nostalgia that made him persist in believing they could be happy together. Perhaps he was just being kind, for Leo was kind. Erratic, too, but terribly generous if he discovered someone needed something… anything. Yet any faint hopes she’d harboured that he really wanted her, desired her in the same way he had desired his lovely mistress shrivelled and died in the light of that indifferent look, those cold words. She felt a fool for believing she could tempt him into bedding her.

The ungainly struggle to get to her feet as she found the counterpane had not entirely given up the fight did not help her composure. Finally upright, she clutched it tightly around her and went to sit on the bed, keeping her back to Leo.

“We’d best eat before it gets cold,” Leo said, and she heard him moving to the table but did not dare look in his direction. It was ridiculous to get herself in such a silly state, she told herself severely. The idea of crying in front of him was mortifying, but she didn’t seem able to stop. Fighting to steady her voice, she replied, trying her best to sound cheerful.

“Y-You start. I’m not terribly hungry,” she managed, though her voice wobbled a little.

“Vi?”

Vi didn’t answer, praying he would just leave her be and get on with his dinner.

Naturally, the wretched man had to decide at that moment to pay attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said brightly. “Quite all right. Do eat before it g-gets—” Vi cursed as her voice quavered, and she closed her mouth on a sob.

“Vi! Love, what’s wrong?” Leo rushed over, crouching before her and taking her hands. “You’re crying!” he said, shock and accusation in his voice, as though she were doing it on purpose.

“I’m not,” Vi retorted crossly, which was an obvious and pointless lie as tears streamed down her face, but she was not feeling entirely rational.

“Then your face is leaking,” he said, deadpan, making her give an unladylike squawk of unwilling laughter. He returned an anxious smile and shoved a large and mercifully clean handkerchief at her. She took it, wiping her eyes and giving her nose a good blow, which was likely the least seductive thing she could have done, but she supposed that hardly mattered now.

“I’m all right,” she said thickly, trying to smile at him. Apparently, the effort was a poor one, for he looked more worried than ever.

Getting up, he sat on the bed beside her. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

“Not in the least,” she said impatiently, wishing he would go and eat his dinner and give her a moment to compose herself.

It was too humiliating for words, sobbing in front of him because he didn’t want her. Of all the embarrassing situations to get herself into, this had to be the worst imaginable. At least before she’d had her pride.

“Then why—”

“Oh, just leave it be, Leo,” she cried, pushing to her feet. She crossed to the fireplace and stared down into the empty grate.

“How can I?” he demanded, following her. “One moment you’re laughing and looking like… well, never mind what, and then this! I know I’m only a man, so incapable of understanding the workings of the female mind, but give me a clue, love.”

“Looking like what?” Vi asked suspiciously.

“What?”

“You said, laughing and looking like—looking like what?” Vi repeated, narrowing her eyes at him.

Leo swallowed. “Never mind.”

“Like a frightful old maid?” she suggested tartly. “Did you come to your senses, Leo, and realise you ought never to have been so foolish as to show an interest in me?”

Leo’s mouth fell open, and he made a strangled sound of pure outrage so Vi swallowed the rest of the accusation she had ready to throw at him. There was a look of such fury in his eyes that she feared what he might say or do next. Indeed, he looked really—

Before Vi could think of how he looked, other than quite unhinged, he grabbed her roughly, hauled her into his arms, and kissed her.