A Knight of Vengeance (The Valiant Love Regency Romance #12) (A Historical Romance Book): Valiant Love, #12

By Deborah Wilson

Lady Elisa Seys is known to be mad.

That doesn't mean she doesn't know what she's doing.

Escaping from Bedlam was just the first part of her plan.

Solving the murder that got her locked away is the second.

Falling in love was not part of the arrangement, but where the heart led, her mind couldn't help but go.

Lord Nicholas Childs had little desire to play governess to a madwoman whose enchanting spirit seems to glow in her eyes.

He's a man who deals with the darker parts of Society.

Death trails his wake.

So, he knows trouble when he sees it, and Elisa is trouble with a capital T.

Yet sadly, Nick's never been able to resist trouble.

It's a game of trust, patience, and staying alive and, in the end, if they succeed, the reward will be sweet.

But is love sweeter than vengeance?

Can two people madly in love beat the odds?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deborah Wilson
• Release date: Feb 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393576556

Deborah Wilson

As a young girl, Deborah has been an avid fan of Regency authors such as Jane Austen. Deborah has always been in love with the Regency era. Despite the fact that this era is filled with great social, political, and economic upheavals and happenings, yet there is still plenty of room for episodes of romance happenings. In this era, love was pure. In this era, one can still find men and women who would have the courage to express their love while living amongst strict social customs for courtships. In such times, romantic gestures could be small yet they have a beautiful, meaningful impact. It is Deborah’s desire that through her writings, one will find the courage to love, to profess love and to pursue love. And the reason is simple. Everyone deserves to love and be loved. Pure and simple. Deborah is the author of ❦ VALIANT LOVE ❦ series. While the wealthy and titled men and women of the early nineteenth century were known for their extravagance in dress and decor and the rules that governed ‘polite society’, she wanted this series to focus on something different. Honor. What makes a man or woman honorable and where does love fit into all of this? “Let good be thy fortune and honor thy wealth.” Read and find out now for yourself Sign up now to Deborah’s VIP email list. Why? You will never miss a new release. You will be notified by Deborah personally as soon as her next book is out. →⟫⟫ http://eepurl.com/dHxqRD And please don’t forget to connect with Deborah on facebook. She loves hearing from her readers and sharing her thoughts and writing progress. →⟫⟫ https://www.facebook.com/deborahwilsonbooks

Book preview

0 1

*   *   *

1824

Are you listening to me?

Lord Nicholas Childs turned from the window to look toward the gentleman who’d spoken. He sat in the ornate chair behind his desk. Dark wood from the Orient had been carved to reflect the power of various beasts from around the world. They protruded from the legs of his massive desk with terrible teeth and wings. Their vicious eyes watched from the high-back chair that may as well been a throne for all the power the man who sat in it held.

The Duke of Van Dero.

Young and nothing like the savage man who’d once held the title, Lord Cassius Hiller stared over at Nicholas with all the patience in the world. He could be callous when he wished to be. His golden eyes took a shine at the sight of violence, but at the moment, he was asking a favor of Nick. A favor of a friend.

A favor Nick wanted no part of.

Nick crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Ask someone else. I don’t do that sort of work anymore.

Cass frowned. It isn’t as though you’re being asked to kill anyone or spy on anyone. You’re neither Forager nor Dispatcher on this matter. Van Dero ran an organization whose main goal was to stop as much injustice in England as possible. While the organization itself hadn’t been created by Cassius, he’d changed the purpose from the terror the old duke, Lord Gregory, had originally intended it for.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t engage in activities any good magistrate wouldn’t frown upon. Often, in the fight for the freedom of others, there were gentlemen who could not be reasoned with. Mercy only made them crueler, and Cass put those men down.

Death was always a final act and was usually carried out by a Dispatcher, the assassins whose message was always death. Foragers were quite different. They followed gossip to the source and gathered secrets.

As a young man, Nick had been a Forager for Lord Gregory. Never in his life had he thought he’d worked for the Duke of Van Dero again, yet he was Cassius’ man of business, and often the duke’s business included things that could not be placed into the usual account book.

We should hear whatever it is the Marquess of Goldstone has to say to us, Cassius said. It could be a simple matter, something that takes you no more than a few days. All he wants you to do is retrieve someone out of Bedlam.

The very name of the asylum made Nick shiver. He could only imagine the man Goldstone wanted to be freed.

Goldstone had excused himself and would return to the room shortly.

Nick tilted his head and a blond curl fell into his eye. Threading his fingers through the locks and pushing it back, he said, I find it strange that just a few weeks ago, we were planning to kill the marquess. Now, we’re doing him favors.

There had been an ambush at Van Dero’s home. A small band of fools had shot through the duke’s window while his friends and family had been gathered. No one on Cassius’ side had died. A few of the men who’d come to kill him and his pregnant wife had. They’d captured one man, one who had been bloodied and beaten by Cassius’ watchmen.

Goldstone had been unrecognizable, and Cassius had decided to keep him alive in order to gain information. A week later, the identity of their captive had been revealed. Avery Seyes, the current Marquess of Goldstone and the future Duke of Reddington.

He’d been set up by his own brother. After an inspection of Goldstone’s weapons, it was revealed that he’d never shot a single bullet at Cassius’ home. Therefore, he’d been given permission to live... if he was useful.

He’d proven himself to be just that, giving Cassius the names of men in his own organization who couldn’t be trusted. Yet, Cass wanted more. The Duke of Van Dero was a Collector and Goldstone had offered Cass something he couldn’t refuse.

Anything.

For this single favor, Goldstone would owe Cassius a debt without limits, one whose value could not be calculated.

Anything.

It was a dangerous thing to owe a man, which made Nick wonder just who Goldstone wanted out of Bedlam and why he couldn’t go get this person himself.

Nick wanted the details. It was an intriguing situation, but what he didn’t want was the responsibility. He’d handled a crazy person before. He wanted nothing to do with it again.

Goldstone will one day be a duke, Cassius said. Do you know how rare it is to be owed by a duke? Much less one with political ambitions? I must have his debt. I should also like his loyalty.

Nick knew nothing about the House of Lords and could care less. You have the entire Equerry to ask this favor of, Nick said, referring to Cassius’ army, a team of former soldiers and men who were little better than highwaymen. Ask one of them to do this. Ask Astger. General Astger, who’d once been a general in the fight against Napoleon, now led Cass’ team of fighters.

Astger has the tendency to intimidate even when trying not to. It doesn’t help that he has a wicked scar that only enhances the danger he projects. He might frighten whomever it is Goldstone needs us to retrieve. Cass was never one to mince words. Astger, or Viscount Bowland, did have a scar. It wasn’t too terrible, but combined with his size and menacing bone structure, he did tend to frighten most.

Nick, on the other hand, was known to be charming. It had always worked to his advantage in the past. One never thought him capable of violence until they tested him.

Do you remember that anklet you used to wear? The one with the coins? Cassius asked out of the blue.

Nick couldn’t understand what his question had to do with anything, but he recalled the anklet. I lost it long ago. I’m not surprised. I wasn’t the most responsible child. His father had given it to him to wear in his boots as a lad and told Nick to wear it at all time, just in case he was ever without money.

His socks cushioned the sound so no one could hear the metal coins hit against one another. What does that have to do with anything? Nick asked.

Cassius shrugged. Just wondering. Always thought it was a strange gift.

My father wasn’t right in the head, as you know, but that means nothing. I don’t know how to deal with madmen, Nick said with what he hoped was finality.

You were married to a madwoman, Cass countered. I imagine you’ll do well.

Nick lifted a brow. Are we simply going to forget that Maria killed herself three days into our marriage?

It was an accident, Cass replied. Think of this as a chance to redeem your confidence.

Nick straightened. Is that what this is about? My confidence? You think I still mourn Maria? He had loved her. Maria had been mad, but every moment with her had been exciting. When she’d died, a part of him had died as well. The roaring fire of life had diminished significantly, not enough that Nick wished to put the fire out entirely, but it was low.

I’m all right, Nick answered.

You’re not. Cassius leaned forward on the desk. Milly and I have been speaking. We’re concerned.

Now you and your wife are speaking about me? Nick scoffed. You tell Milly she has enough to be concerned about with you. Milly was Cassius’ softest part. She brought out the best in him. She brought out the mercy in him. Without her, England would likely return to the Dark Ages.

As Cass’ man of business, Nick knew exactly what the duke was capable of. He not only had a military, but he had investments, support of other powerful gentlemen, and most importantly, the Book of Affairs, a detailed journal of every secret in England. The secrets controlled society and thus, Cassius controlled society.

She understands her purpose in my life, Cassius said. Her love keeps me from going over the edge, but she wishes all the men around me to be happy as well. She thinks having families of our own will keep us in line.

I’ve been keeping you and Sirius in line. I am happy. I have my friends. I have my brothers... When he could find his brothers. All the Childs men had the tendency to disappear without notice.

You’re not happy, Cass said.

You mean, I’m not married like you and Sirius, Nick countered. I’ll survive.

Cassius stood. The moment Goldstone made his proposal, you came to mind, Nicholas.

So, you’re doing this for me? Nick asked.

There’s nothing wrong with having more than one reason for doing something, Cass said. Also, I’ve been sensing some tension between you two.

Have you? Nick had sensed it as well. Goldstone had started it. The marquess didn’t like any of them, really, but for some reason, he despised Nick the most.

Nick didn’t like him any better, knowing him to be a pompous little nothing who had never experienced a hard moment in his life... until recently.

Their conversation was cut off by Goldstone’s return.

Thank you for waiting, Goldstone said. Blond with blue eyes, the marquess was built like a fighter as well and secretly, Nick hoped he challenged him. Usually, Nick was a very humble man, but something about the marquess irritated him. It was likely the current situation and how Nick was being placed in the middle of it.

Before we get to the details, you understand that the favor you will owe will be called upon one day, Cass said. I’ll expect to see whatever task I give you completed without hesitation.

Goldstone nodded. So long as you’re not coming after my firstborn son, we have a deal.

The words were not said in jest. Just a few weeks ago, Cassius had thought to steal the children of his enemies and hold them in an effort to correct their parents. He’d never have hurt the children themselves, though. Cassius lived to protect the innocent.

Cassius leaned forward on the desk and looked up into the marquess’ eyes. I agree to bring no harm to your family... so long as none of them offend me.

Goldstone narrowed his eyes. What does that mean?

It means that one day your theoretical boy will become a theoretical man. This man could upset me. If that should happen, our agreement holds no weight. Cassius was a very thorough man.

The marquess rolled his eyes. He had little respect for the duke. I highly doubt you’ll wait to call your debt in two or three decades from now.

Cassius shrugged. I like to plan ahead, just in case. You should understand that I will require the same amount of obedience to my request whether it be tomorrow or ninety-nine years from now while you’re on your deathbed.

The marquess took a step back and finally it looked as though he were thinking.

Nick thought that good. He’d been calling the man a fool for the last hour, telling himself nothing was worth a debt to the duke. Nick had seen men severely punished for their betrayal.

He had hope that Goldstone would change his mind, then Nick would be free to conduct normal business... or as normal as the business of the Duke of Van Dero could get.

I accept, Goldstone said.

Nick cursed under his breath.

Cassius asked, Who is this man you need to be freed?

Not a man. A woman. My sister.

Nick lifted his eyes to the heavens. Perhaps the man is mad. Perhaps the entire family is mad, he said aloud. When he brought his gaze back down, he found Goldstone glowering at him.

You’re one to talk. I heard about your father, the Mad Marquess. Your brother isn’t far behind him. I’ve even heard whispers about you. Men talk when they think you’re close to death and can’t hear.

Nick stepped forward. Say another word. Nick hadn’t fought in years, but his body knew the moves. He’d been fighting to the death since he was seven, a fact only a few were aware of.

Nick had lost the anklet Cassius spoke of during one of his last fights. He and his brothers had all been given one by their father, in case they had to run and needed something to trade with.

There had never come an occasion to run. Nick doubted he’d run from anything.

Goldstone grinned deviously, but then that smile fell. My sister is... different but not mad. She was placed there for her own good. It was... safe. My uncle ran the facility. He died recently. Bedlam is no longer safe.

And you can’t ask your father to get her out? Nick asked. I can only imagine he was the one to put her there unless she wed.

She isn’t wed, Goldstone said. He did put her there.

Why? Cassius asked.

I’d... rather not say, Goldstone said. All I can say is that my brother planned to kill her before he died, and I’ve got word that his plan is still in effect. Goldstone stepped closer to Cass’ desk. If I don’t get my sister out and hidden... she could die.

Nick felt a tightening in his chest. He loved his brothers. He’d do anything for them.

Did you tell your father this? Cassius asked.

My father is old and weak. He grieves not only his brother’s death but my brother’s death as well. He knows nothing about all Luke had planned for my family and yours. He had no idea of the murderer his own son had become or the greed that had taken over his life. I would go for my sister myself, but I am off to my father now. He needs me. He’s been alone too long with his grief.

Maybe you can tell him that someone else plans to kill your sister, Nick offered. He’s the Duke of Reddington. He’ll stop it.

Goldstone sighed. No, I won’t do that to my father. As I said... he doesn’t have the strength he once had. I can’t have this matter being the thing to bring him down.

Tell me the whole plan, Cassius asked. What’s to stop these men from going after your sister once she’s out?

She’s to be wed this Season, Goldstone said. Once wed, she should be safe.

Cassius stared at him. What aren’t you telling us?

Much, I’m afraid, Goldstone said. I am willing to share no more. I know how you thrive off secrets, Your Grace. I don’t plan on giving up my sister’s.

Cass folded his hands on the desk. There are only so many reasons someone would go after a woman and then stop once she was wed.

Goldstone shrugged. Guess if you must, but I doubt you’ll turn down my deal just because you’re missing details.

Cassius blinked. You’re right. You have a deal. Nick will get your sister and bring her here.

Nick cursed again. I haven’t agreed to this.

Goldstone looked at Nick and then lifted a brow. Can you even get it done?

The challenge cut like a blade across Nick’s chest. Could he get it done? The man clearly had no idea who he was. Any man who’s underestimated me in the past has been proven wrong.

Goldstone turned back to Cass. Surely, you’ve someone better suited for this sort of thing? Like one of the soldiers you had beat me to an inch of my life?

I could snap your neck, Nick told him. Would that make me better suited?

Goldstone growled. Pretty words for a fancy man.

Enough, Cass said. He looked at Nick. Are you doing this or am I hiring someone... else?

Nick could feel the pressure. Cass had almost asked if he should hire someone ‘better suited.’ Clenching his fists, Nick thought quickly.

The job sounded simple enough. He didn’t even have to speak to Goldstone’s sister. If he took some men with him, he would barely have to see her at all.

I’ll do it.

Excellent, Cass said.

Goldstone said, He’ll need to hide her somewhere until the Season begins.

Wait. Nick lifted his hands. No one said anything about hiding the woman.

Goldstone frowned. I said she could not marry until the Season began. It is only December. That is months away.

You take her, Nick said. She’s your sister.

The marquess shook his head. You don’t think anyone connected to me will be the first place they’ll look?

Nick turned to Cass. You keep her.

Cass tapped his fingers on the desk. No, I’m quite done with people shooting at my wife.

I’m not a governess, Nick said. I don’t have time to coddle some young chit—

Watch your mouth, Goldstone shouted.

Cass stood just as Nick took a step toward him. Gentlemen.

Never mind, Goldstone said. The deal is off. I’ll figure this out on my own. Good day, Your Grace. He didn’t bother addressing Nick at all as he left.

The door closed behind him.

Cass turned to Nick. I know you to be more diplomatic than this. What is it between you two?

Nick shrugged. The deal is off. Now, let’s discuss expenditures for the coming Season. I think...

Cass reached into his desk and pulled out something that clinked when he set it on the desk.

Nick saw light flicker off of it when Cass extracted his hand. Nick knew better than to draw close, yet he found himself doing just that, drawn to the shiny object.

He suspected he knew what it was, and he was right.

A gold coin with the shield of the house of Van Dero sat on the desk, a dragon breathing fire etched into the metal. Nick flipped it over and saw VD written on the back.

He’d only ever seen one of these coins once in his life. Gregory had given one to Nick’s mother.

Nick rubbed the gold between his fingers. Are you truly giving this to me?

Get me that deal and it’s yours. One coin. One favor. No questions asked. However, your favor cannot be greatly ridiculous or the one I plan on getting from Goldstone.

Nick looked at Cassius. You already know what you wish to ask the marquess? The moment the question was out, Nick knew the answer. Of course, he did. Cass planned five steps ahead of others.

I know you can do this, Cass said. I know you can see it done properly. I want you to do this.

And I will be able to cash in on this coin whenever I want? Nick held the favor up. It was tempting. It was everything. It was dangerous in his hands. Nick was already wealthy. He had everything he ever needed. What more could he ask for?

"Perhaps, you’d like someone’s name erased from the Book of Affairs, Cass said. I don’t know what it is you want, but every man wants something."

It was true. There were things Nick wanted, but those things could only be given by God. Still, the coin was too lovely to let go of. Nick put it in his pocket. Honestly, I might just give it away.

That would be your right, Cass said.

Nick sighed in resignation. All right. I’ll do it.

Cassius grinned.

∫  ∫  ∫

0 2

*   *   *

Lady Elisa Seyes disrobed and stepped into the tub. She sucked in a breath at the stinging heat, but soon a pleasant sensation spread over her. She sank shoulders deep into the water. It was scented like roses and made her skin feel soft to the touch.

Do you need assistance with your bath, my lady? her maid asked. Kate had just arrived a few days ago. Before that, Elisa had never had a maid in all the years she lived at St Mary Bethlehem Hospital.

In fact, she’d never had a bath large enough to accommodate her body or rose-scented soap. Usually, her baths smelled of lavender and were never this fragrant.

Things had changed since her uncle’s death. Her meals held more flavor. Even her dresses of fine cloths held more detail, accentuating her body’s greatest attributes. She’d received a new wardrobe, which was customary, her father being the Duke of Reddington, but this was different.

Everything was more.

A part of her believed it was the work of her father. He was clearly trying to comfort her, recalling how close she was to her uncle, Dr. Beau Seyes. Uncle Beau had been like a second father to her. She missed him. She missed their talks and their walks in the small garden behind the house he kept on the property.

She resided away from the other residents, in a small apartment where her uncle had lived. The new head of the hospital, Dr. Hobbs, had taken over his rooms and was allowing Elisa to stay in her room so long as her father paid a heavy rent for it.

Since he’d had no children, Uncle Beau’s sister had come and taken what had been willed to her, but she’d informed Elisa that Beau had willed a few items to her. The golden pocket watch was her favorite and the only thing she’d kept. Everything else, she’d given to Kate.

I won’t need assistance with my bath, but I do want to know if you delivered my missive. Though it pained her, Elisa was using what items her uncle had given her to pay the maid to work on her behalf.

She was in Bedlam because she claimed to have witnessed the murder of Lady Sarah Saxon at the hand of Lord James Scott, a man who was now the Marquess of Alguire. Uncle Beau had convinced her it didn’t happen and though it had taken years, Elisa had been convinced he was telling her the truth.

But then Beau had died suspiciously, and her doubts had returned.

Because Elisa spent so much time with her uncle, it made it difficult for him to keep the information of other patients away from her. She’d seen papers here and there, names written in her uncle’s hand that very few could understand.

There was a man here who knew the gentleman she’d witnessed commit the murder, who could likely tell her if she were mad or not.

I am to receive his reply tonight, my lady, Kate said. Unless you wish for one of the guards to bring it? You usually send them with your missives anyway.

Elisa shook her head. This is different than a note of encouragement, Kate. This is personal. Only you can handle this.

While Elisa had no friends in Bedlam, with her uncle’s permission, she’d been allowed to write the patients and even the guards who lived and worked within the hospital’s walls.

She’d been told her tiny messages had brightened even the coldest of days and managed to put smiles of the faces of those who could read them.

Those who couldn’t read, she’d tried to teach from afar. She’d written English letters with small little illustrations to help the men and women along.

It had been her way of keeping spirits high, including her own. The power of words was something she’d learned from her mother.

I shall return when I have it. Kate closed the door behind her.

Elia glanced around the room at the other gifts she’d received recently. Flowers and confectioneries. Jewelry. She prayed over and over again that the gifts were from her father or even her brother Avery, but something told her they weren’t.

Something told her the gifts were from the very man she wished to avoid.

She washed her body and her short red hair. The wet curls stopped just beneath her chin but would climb higher when dry.

Taking a breath, Elisa submerged her body under the water and looked up. The surface rippled with waves and bubbles. The hour was late and only the fireplace added a glow to the room.

When she could hold her breath no longer, she rose from the water.

Kate was there, holding out a towel. She looked slightly disheveled. The guards were known to be unkind of the women in Bedlam, but Elisa had thought Kate would be safe.

Were you hurt? Elisa asked.

Kate shook her head. No. They only teased, but I will not go back there, my lady.

Elisa nodded in understanding. No gift was worth the risk to her person. She was ready to give up on her task when Kate said, I got your missive.

Elisa was out of the water at once and wrapping herself in the towel. The moment her hands were dry, she opened it.

Are you in love with this soldier? Kate asked.

Bedlam had begun taking great amounts of soldiers after the war against the French ten years ago, an agreement that was struck when Parliament gave Bethlehem the funds to renovate the existing building.

Currently, the British fought on the Gold Coast and Major John Collins had been injured and was suffering from visions. At least, Elisa had read that on the papers in her uncle’s office.

There was a chance that the major wouldn’t understand what Elisa was asking, a chance he’d lost his mind forever, but Elisa clung to hope.

The major had been at the party the night Lady Sarah Saxon died. He’d been standing close to James Scott, but Elisa believed that at the time the major stayed quiet because of James’ status as a lord. James Scott was to become the Marquess of Alguire.

I’m not in love with him, Elisa said. Why do you ask?

Kate blinked. He kept mentioning something about a sweet shop.

Elisa sat down in a chair and stared at her and then opened the missive.

Gloria.

She stiffened. This is it, she whispered. Gloria was a place in London.

Kate began to brush the knots from her hair and did so rather roughly. Does this mean you won’t be needing me to deliver messages anymore?

Elisa put the paper down and thought. I’ll need to get out of here.

The maid scoffed. I can do many things, but I can’t do that.

I’ll give you the pocket watch. She would hate doing it, but she would. For this, for justice for her uncle, she would. Please, just get me out of here.

I’m not sure you’ll need my help, Kate said. I overheard Dr. Hobbs mention that you’ll be released in a few days. He’s upset he won’t be receiving your father’s money anymore.

Elisa pulled away and looked up at Kate. What? Why didn’t you tell me before?

I just found out. The guards were talking about it. I’m surprised you didn’t know. She returned to her task. Your intended, Lord Alguire, is on his way, just finishing the holiday with his parents. The ceremony will take place at the local church. He’s been preparing you, what with all these flowers, gifts, and me. I’m to go with you as your lady’s maid. You won’t take back the things you gave me, will you?

Elisa’s blood ran cold. She had her answer. The gifts were not from her father. She wanted to tell Kate that she had no intention of going anywhere with the Marquess of Alguire, but the girl had just revealed that she worked for her intended.

Without a thought, Elisa grabbed the brush from Kate’s hand, stood, and began to smash it against the wall. Over and over again, she hit until the wallpaper broke. Then she began to scream.

My lady! Kate cried. What’s the matter?

Elisa pretended she didn’t hear or understand. She made her wails manic and eventually Kate left, shouting for the doctor.

Once she was gone, Elisa took a breath. This was a tactic she’d used in the past, though it had been some time. Everyone already thought her crazy. No need to disappoint. If madness had kept her here this long, perhaps it could keep her longer, for she refused to marry Alguire.

∫  ∫  ∫

0 3

*   *   *

Nick watched as Dr. Hobbs cleaned his spectacles with a cloth right before placing them back on the bridge of his nose. His apartments in Bedlam were like a yellow dandelion that managed to grow through a cobblestone road—bright, lively, and nothing like the rest of the facility.

When Dr. Hobbs had heard that the Marquess of Venmont’s brother was present, he’d had the head guard escort him into his private quarters.

The front room was decorated