To Tempt A Rogue Read online

  Nathaniel took a long moment to think hard upon the words. Why not just let things stand as they were? His uncle would not be so foolish as to physically harm the children. Thus far Lord Bridwell had voiced no objections to Nathaniel’s daily visits and if he kept a close eye on the estate finances, Nathaniel could ensure that the money would be there when the children came of age.

  This court battle was proving to be a far more lengthy and costly endeavor than Lord Avery anticipated. And the outcome of a victory was far from assured, especially without the will that supported his claim of guardianship. McTate’s advice was sound, yet the idea of abandoning those three helpless souls to Lord Bridwell’s care did not sit well.

  Nathaniel’s throat tightened. If the situation were reversed, if it were his children who were suddenly orphans that were under the protection of a guardian who cared so little for them, what would his brother have done?

  Nathaniel shook his head slowly, knowing in his heart the answer. Robert would have intervened. Without hesitation, he would have taken the children into his home and nurtured them as his own.

  Could he do no less for Robert’s progeny? “Letting Bridwell remain in control is the coward’s way out,” Nathaniel insisted. “Besides, he might one day take it into his head to deny me access to the children and I’ll have no way of stopping him. I believe the only way to secure their future is to establish myself as the legal guardian as soon as possible.”

  McTate frowned. “If your uncle has no real regard or feeling for the children, why does he want them so badly? What’s he really after?”

  “Their money,” Nathaniel said bluntly. “Along with the power and prestige of being in control of the Claridge fortune. As a second son myself, I can honestly say I never gave my position much thought since I had been given the lesser family title of Baron Avery as a young boy, just as my uncle had been made Lord Bridwell when he was a lad. Both titles come with generous incomes and more noble prestige than either of us probably deserve. It was therefore doubly shocking for me to discover how deeply my uncle resents being a second son.”

  Suddenly alert, McTate sat up in his chair. “Could your nephew, young Gregory, be in any danger?”

  Lord Avery paused. “Physical danger?”

  “You said your uncle resents being a second son. What lengths do you think he is willing to go to become Duke of Claridge?”

  Nathaniel swore loudly. “Good God, I never even thought of the title. If Robert died without an heir, then I would have become duke. I assume if Robert’s heir dies without issue the title reverts to me. Though I suppose my uncle could try to lay claim to it.”

  “Yet another reason for your uncle to see you as an obstacle he needs to remove,” McTate retorted. “Of course, if he is as enterprising as he seems, and truly does covet the title, he would need to dispose of both you and your nephew.”

  Nathaniel’s heart pounded in his chest. “Bloody hell, McTate, now you’ve given me a new worry.”

  The Scotsman shrugged. “I am merely watching your back, my friend. ’Tis a farfetched idea that Lord Bridwell would go to such lengths, then again, who can say with certainty what lies in a man’s heart? Especially an Englishman. History is filled with examples of familial genocide. That rascal King Richard came to the throne only after imprisoning his two nephews, Prince Edward and the Duke of York, in the Garden Tower.

  “Richard was too clever to kill them outright, so at first the lads were seen from time to time playing together through the bars and windows of the tower. Gradually they appeared less and less, and within a few weeks disappeared forever. Though many suspected what had occurred, no one challenged the king. The truth was not revealed until two hundred years later when the bones of two young boys were found buried at the foot of the tower stairs, under a great heap of stones.”

  “Richard murdered those children so he could become king,” Nathaniel said wryly. “There is great wealth in my family estate, but it is hardly the crown of England.”

  The Scotsman blinked. “Perhaps my imagination has gotten the better of me. Yet I would be a poor friend indeed if I did not advise you to be extra vigilant.”

  Nathaniel knew McTate was offering sincere and prudent advice, but he wished the subject had never been broached, for it merely added to his growing list of concerns. “Once I win my case, all these problems will simply vanish,” Lord Avery said with a confidence he did not truly feel.

  “Aye, now, that might be your biggest mistake of all. Placing your faith in English law.” McTate let out a huge, exaggerated sigh. “If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll take some advice from a Scot. Don’t be waiting around for the courts to hand those children over to you, all neat and pretty and tied with a big bow. Go out and take them.”

  Lord Avery gasped. “What?”

  “You heard me. Take them. Steal them. Right out from under Lord Bridwell’s nose.”

  “Are you out of your mind? Or just drunk?” McTate furrowed his brow as though he was giving the questions serious thought. “I suppose I’m a bit of both, but that doesn’t make it a poor idea.”

  “ ’Tis a wholly ludicrous notion.”

  “Why? My people are raiders and reivers. We have lived that way, successfully, for generations. If a neighboring clan has something that is rightfully yours and they refuse to return it, you steal it back.”

  Nathaniel put down his half-full wine goblet, deciding he had already had more than enough to drink. He was tempted to reach over and remove the glass from Duncan’s strong hands, but decided that would not be a prudent move. “We are talking about three young children, McTate, not cattle.”

  The Scotsman looked startled. “I don’t see all that much difference.”

  Lord Avery began pacing, his long legs taking lengthy strides back and forth across the carpet. “Let us say that for a moment, a very brief moment, I am considering this plan. What then am I supposed to do when my uncle shows up on my doorstep demanding that I return his wards? Or worse, what if he brings a constable and insists that I am arrested and hauled off to Newgate? Even if I manage to circumvent the full force of the law, I will never be seen as a fit guardian if I pull such an outrageous stunt.”

  “Aye, it’s a risky move, there’s no getting around it. But I believe if the courts thought you a fit guardian in the first place, your petition would have been considered more seriously. You said yourself that even with bribes you were unable to gain temporary custody.” McTate’s eyes narrowed as a crafty expression illuminated his handsome features. “And your uncle can hardly have you arrested or get the children back if he can’t find them.”

  Nathaniel halted suddenly and pivoted around on his heel. “Are you suggesting we go into hiding? Like criminals?”

  McTate leaned back in his chair. “I am suggesting that once you take matters into your own hands you must make certain to keep all the advantages on your side. Lord Bridwell will most likely not raise a hue and cry if you take the children from him because it will make him appear a weak and incompetent guardian.

  “Hell, if he is as neglectful of the children as you say, he might not even notice they are gone from the mansion for several days. Especially if we can devise and execute a well thought out plan that will ensure the silence of several key members of the household staff.”

  Nathaniel’s mouth tightened. Though he spoke in a calm, casual tone, Lord Avery knew McTate was completely serious. But could such a drastic plan really succeed?

  “The children would be terrified if a stranger snatched them away,” Nathaniel said slowly.

  “I agree. That is why you must be the one to take them from the house. They know and trust you and will come without any fuss or bother.”

  “So I am to be the kidnapper?”

  “It makes the most sense.”

  Conversely, it did. The knot in Nathaniel’s stomach doubled in size. He would far prefer to do things in a legal, civilized manner, but if the courts ruled against him, there would be fe
w choices left.

  “Once I have the children in hand, where would we go?”

  McTate’s smile flashed white against his bronzed, weathered face. “I have a small, little-used property in the Highlands that will be the perfect place for all of you to reside. I guarantee that neither Bridwell, nor anyone he hires, will find you there. I’ll even provide the servants, and a skilled governess, to care for the children.”

  “Then what?”

  “After the dust settles a bit, you strike a bargain with your uncle. I suspect once he realizes you have the upper hand, he will be far more inclined to listen to reason.” McTate flashed another devilish, dangerous smile. “ ’Tis all very simple. Just say the word and I’ll help you set everything in motion.”

  Simple? McTate’s plan was convoluted, dangerous, and diabolically clever. Nathaniel’s often sleeping conscience balked at the idea of employing such drastic, underhanded methods to obtain his goal. Yet he admitted that deep down, a small, mad part of him was seriously considering it.

  Chapter Four

  In addition to the family, it seemed as though every servant, including the butler, housekeeper, a host of maids, footmen, and grooms, were present in the front courtyard of Hawthorne Castle to see Miss Harriet off and wish her well on her journey. The sky was cloudless, the sun was shining, the air felt brisk and invigorating. It was a good day for traveling.

  Harriet shook hands with each servant, accepting their good wishes with a gracious smile. Pulling on her gloves, she then headed toward the carriage where the family had gathered to say their good-byes.

  “I still cannot believe you are really leaving,” Elizabeth said in a small voice. “And going all the way to northern Scotland. Gracious, ’tis practically on the edge of the world.”

  “It could have been worse, dear sister,” Harriet said as she smoothed a stray blond curl from Elizabeth’s cheek. “I might be bound for Ireland.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened in horror. “I do not understand how you can be so glib about this, Harriet. I would be filled with utter terror at the thought of leaving home and taking up employment in an unknown household.”

  “I know.” Harriet rested her hands gently on Elizabeth’s fragile shoulders. “But I am excited about this chance to experience life beyond our small village. Please, you must remember this was my choice.”

  Elizabeth lowered her chin. “I shall miss you very much,” she said, her voice tight with emotion. “Promise me you will not stay away too long?”

  “I shall be back before you even realize I have been gone,” Harriet replied. “Now, don’t get sloppy and sentimental, dear sister, or else Griffin will start blubbering in front of the servants.”

  The corner of the viscount’s eyes crinkled as he forced a smile. He leaned over and caught Harriet in a large brotherly hug. “You have no earthly idea how difficult it is for me to let you go,” he whispered in her ear. “I have been persuaded to allow this tomfoolery only because you insist it will bring you a measure of contentment. But you must give me your oath that you will return immediately if you experience any problems.

  “Though you are loath to admit it, there are some difficulties that cannot be overcome by sheer effort of will, even with such a strong will as yours.”

  “I shall be prudent and cautious as I undertake this new venture,” Harriet replied, frowning at the slight trembling of fear she felt in her chest.

  Two days ago she had felt exhilarated and optimistic as she packed her bags. Yet as she stood in the courtyard, surrounded by all those who were familiar and dear to her, Harriet’s heart began to thump. She had never expected it would be so difficult to say her good-byes.

  Except for a brief and most unhappy few months in London, she had never lived anywhere else. Was she being foolhardy to undertake such a drastic change in her life? Harriet clutched the reticule that held the letter offering her the job of governess to the three wards of Mr. Wainwright and wrestled with her doubts.

  Thanks to the efforts of the local vicar, this position was found, and accepted, in short order. The vicar had kindly and generously spread the word among his many friends and relatives and his efforts were rewarded with a letter from a distant cousin in Scotland who knew of a wealthy merchant class family in desperate need of a qualified governess. Harriet could hardly believe her good fortune when she heard the details, for this was precisely the sort of opportunity she had been hoping to find.

  Away from England, away from society, away from the nobility. She could make a fresh start, where no one knew of her past, where she need not fear being laughed at, or scorned, or worst of all pitied because of a broken engagement and a disreputable ex-fiancé.

  There were other benefits as well. Harriet very much liked the fact that she would have several charges to care for, specifically two girls and younger boy. Her experience with her nephew Georgie made her comfortable with the notion of coping with little boys, since she felt she understood them. Certainly far more than she understood grown-up boys.

  Having girls to guide would bring balance and variety to her days. And best of all, they were Mr. Wainwright’s wards, not his natural children, so his interest in their welfare should be limited. That would leave Harriet in nearly complete charge, a position she felt suited her best.

  Two girls and a boy. A long time ago, in what now seemed like a different life, she had yearned to have four children of her own. She had dared to dream of raising two boys and two girls, if the Lord had seen fit to bless her.

  The begetting of those children had also been something to look forward to with excitement and curiosity. Her ex-fiancé Julian had been very miserly with his kisses, yet Harriet had remembered, and cherished, each and every one with nearly reverent clarity.

  The soft brush of his gentle lips against her own on the afternoon when she agreed to be his wife; the desperate, almost frantic pressing of lips and dueling of tongues on the eve of his departure to Spain, when he left to join Wellington’s staff as a junior officer.

  The intervening weeks and months and years had been long and lonely, yet Harriet greeted Julian with open arms and a loving heart upon his unexpected return. She would never forget the thrill of finally being alone with him. Of winding her arms around his shoulder and neck, rising on her toes to embrace his fit form, pressing her body snug against his. The movement of his breath against her cheek, the heat of his body so near to her own.

  They had shared several deep, slow, erotic kisses that made her knees turn to rubber with a mindless pleasure that had stunned her. It was those kisses Harriet remembered so vividly for they had promised such glory but led to only sorrow.

  She believed they would marry within a few weeks and begin their life together. A home, children, a place in society, a place among the community where they lived. It never happened. Instead there had been scandal, disgrace, and abandonment.

  Given no other choice, Harriet had made the best of it. And now somewhere in the wilds of northern Scotland, two little girls and their younger brother awaited her arrival.

  “Will you miss me, Aunt Harriet?”

  Harriet gazed down at her nephew with a pained expression. She would indeed miss Georgie, probably more than anyone else in the household. She had loved, protected and fought over this child from the moment he entered her life. It was difficult to accept that his need for her as a champion had lessened considerably over the last year and was part of the reason she felt it was time to break away from the household.

  Very much aware of the fickle nature and memories of children, Harriet feared he would soon forget her. Burying that gloomy thought deep in her heart, she bent down and scooped the child up in her arms. “You are a special, wonderful lad,” she whispered in his ear. “Always remember how much I love you.”

  Georgie suffered his aunt’s embrace with good humor, planting several sloppy kisses on her cheek before pulling away. Harriet collected herself and straightened. With brisk efficiency she embraced her sister-in-law, Faith
, kissed the sleeping infant Emma Kate’s cheek, and gave Elizabeth one final hug.

  Harriet turned, hearing her sister’s soft, gentle sobs. Feeling unsettled by the emotions that were crowding her, she brushed at the tears brimming in her eyes and focused her attention on the cumbersome coach in order to keep from crying.

  The moment the steps were pulled down, Harriet held up her skirts and climbed into the coach. She settled into place with a minimum amount of fuss, deliberately facing forward. Towards her future. Amid shouts of farewell and good luck, the coach lunged forward.

  “Though I am glad to be of service on this journey, Miss Harriet, I fear I will be feeling quite homesick,” a female voice declared.

  Harriet heaved a deep sigh and tried to shut out the soft sniffles of the maid who accompanied her on the journey. Her own emotions were just below the surface, threatening to overtake her. Yet as the carriage turned the corner and headed down the road Harriet made no sound.

  “Did you see that imposing looking bear, Kate?” Harriet asked. “He was drinking from the stream, but stood his ground boldly even though the carriage passed within a few feet of him as we clattered over the wooden bridge. He must be very brave, for the noise did not seem to even startle him.”

  Kate lifted her head and gave a cursory, uninterested glance out the window. “The mangy creature must have just finished his last meal,” the maid stated with a sniff. “If he was hungry, he’d come slinking along beside us and then attack.”

  “Us?” Harriet asked with disbelieved amusement. “Do bears often attack people?”

  “Oh, no, Miss Harriet. Not you and me. He’d go right for the horses. They’re the easy target. I imagine a bear that fierce could tear a horse to pieces within minutes. He’d go directly for the throat, I’d wager.”