Two Wicked Nights Read online

  Two Wicked Nights

  Dayna Quince

  Red Rose Press

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Newsletter sign up

  About the Author

  Also by Dayna Quince

  Chapter 1

  August 8, 1825

  The day before the house party begins.

  Now, move your mouth lower and blow.”

  Bernadette Marsden raised a brow at Lord Chester. “Are you sure this is how it’s done?”

  “You asked me and now I’m showing you. Just do it.”

  Bernie sighed. “This seems unsanitary.”

  Chester chuckled. “That’s amusing coming from a girl who will kiss a goat.”

  “My goats are clean. I wouldn’t kiss Farmer Trenton’s goats.”

  “You shouldn’t kiss anything of Farmer Trenton’s. I’ve seen his wife wield a butcher knife with great skill.”

  Bernie snorted and returned to her task. She pressed her lips to her thumbs and blew gently on the thin blade of grass, producing an airy whistle. She grinned in surprise at Chester. “Tommy will have to eat his hat!”

  “He’s twelve, and he has a crush on you. Why don’t you let him have this since he’ll never have you?”

  Bernie tossed the blade of grass aside. “Fine.”

  “Very mature of you.”

  Bernie glared at him, but then she got distracted by the glimmer of sunlight on his hair, shining through the leaves of the large old oak they were sitting under. Chester had an unusual shade of light brown hair that could appear blond or brown depending on the time of day.

  “You’re very pretty,” Bernie said.

  His blue eyes sharpened on her, glimmering like an expertly cut diamond.

  “I beg your pardon, did you just say I’m pretty?”

  Bernie grinned. She could see a flush crawling up his neck.

  “Don’t act as though I’ve offended your manly pride. Men can be pretty.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  Bernie continued to study him, even though it was obvious he was avoiding her stare. She took mercy on him and looked back toward Selbourne Castle, the home of the Duke of Selbourne. They had a clear view of both their homes and Castle Selbourne from here atop the hill. She would make the castle her home for two weeks while attending a house party in her and her sisters’ honor, a gift of her dear friend, the duchess. Bernie would be paraded before eligible gentlemen in hopes of securing a proposal.

  It sounded utterly ridiculous, but it was the most important event of her life.

  As one of nine daughters, with no son to inherit her father’s meager estate, all of them must marry.

  “Don’t say such things to the men at the party. I know you are familiar with most of them, but this is different. You must see them not as friends but as more.”

  “I’m going to embarrass myself, aren’t I?”

  “I’ll be there to help you.”

  Bernie twisted to face him. “Why is that? You aren’t going to marry any of us, but Violet showed me the guest list, and it is evenly matched male to female.”

  He shrugged in answer.

  Bernie scowled. The pressure bore down on her, the troubling thoughts she’d pushed to the back of her mind surging forward.

  One of them simply must marry—preferably Anne, in all due haste. There simply wasn’t time anymore, not after what Anne had revealed to her.

  Pregnant. Both Anne and mother, who hadn’t borne a child in seventeen years. Are the Marsdens cursed?

  Worse still, Anne had refused to reveal the name of the man who compromised her. She was the most responsible of them all, the eldest, and now she was pregnant.

  How was Bernie supposed to be charming with the gentlemen when her family’s fate was in her hands?

  “You’re woolgathering. I’m sure it will be fine.” Chester interrupted her thoughts.

  “It’s not fine,” Bernie muttered.

  He touched her chin with a fingertip and turned her face toward him.

  Her heart tripped over itself, stupidly. It was only Chester.

  His eyes held hers and the tightness in her chest eased. His gaze was steady and it anchored her.

  “All of you are gorgeous. They won’t be able to resist you.”

  She swallowed.

  “Which is why I must be there to protect all of you.” He dropped his hand and Bernie looked down. They sat side by side, legs stretched out toward their homes. They had been neighbors all their lives, and Chester had taken it upon himself to be their protector, their de facto big brother.

  Why are his thighs so large?

  Bernie lost her train of thought.

  She tore her gaze away, but in her head she pictured his muscled legs, the tightness of his riding breeches hugging to every dip and swell. From the corner of her vision she saw him lean back onto his elbows, and she just couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the apex of his limbs and the manly bulge there.

  Again she forced herself to look away. What am I doing?

  She’d known him all her life, bickered with him, patted his shoulder as he knelt at the fresh grave of his favorite hound. He’d taught her to swim and witnessed her nearly break her neck balancing on the back of his horse. They had a whole lifetime of experiences together, and yet, there was something about him that was different.

  He seemed so much more…manly right now. She blushed. She was losing her mind. Chester was Chester and he would always be just Chester. He was as good and reliable as the elderly oak that shaded them. He would always be there, guarding her, scolding her, or simply just being him, the most loyal, truest friend she’d ever known.

  Wouldn’t he?

  Chapter 2

  Tiberius James Evander, Earl of Chester, or simply Chester to his friends, strolled along the suites of armor that lined one wall of the King’s Hall. Sunlight glinted off their shiny helms and the tinkle of laughter carried in from the Queens drawing room at the end of the King’s Hall. He looked up into the intricately carved ceiling and swallowed.

  The feminine chatter echoed around him in undulating waves.

  The Northumberland Nine.

  Nine beautiful but poor gently bred women who would spend two weeks in the castle pursuing the men that would be soon arriving. He’d known them all his life, these women, and he knew that their time for waiting to fall in love was over, but something about this hastily put together house party didn’t sit right. Or maybe it was the gentlemen. Most he knew quite well and had helped select them. They were all wealthy, some even titled, and excellent matches for the girls.

  But so many years of watching them grow into young women, acting as their protector when their dunce of a father was away, left him feeling unsure about the days to come. Especially when it came to Bernie. She didn’t know her effect on men, how her taunting and bravado could be seen as a challenge to rakes.

  They’d argued over and over about her behavior, but she just couldn’t see that when her charm and sly wit was combined with her raven locks and sparkling brown eyes, it was like dangling a morsel of meat in front of a predator. She moved with a confidence and
hip-swinging gait that drew every man’s eye. And laughed without restraint. Her dresses were out of mode and often a bit snug. The sisters swapped each other’s gowns or re-sewed them.

  Thank God she’d never been to London. The wealthy rogues there would take one look at her and know she was prime mistress material. The offers would be too large to ignore for a girl in her position.

  Chester would rather die than see that happen to her. She deserved so much more, a husband who could love her and appreciate her while reining in her wilder impulses.

  Were any of the men invited here up to the task?

  No.

  But it was too late, the party had begun, and the clock was ticking. With no son to inherit his estate, Mr. Marsden’s home and land would go to his lackwit nephew. The lout was already married and just waiting to take control. The nephew, Mr. Copeland, didn’t give a damn about the sisters or their mother. Chester had had more than a few heated exchanges with the bounder, keeping him away from the girls.

  They were like sisters to him, as close to siblings as he’d ever had.

  Was he too close to them? Maybe, but what was he to do? Duty and honor had been drilled into him by his father since he could walk, and there was no greater duty and honor than caring for vulnerable women. Love thy neighbor as the bible said. And he did love them. He’d watched the youngest, Willa, grow up from a babe. He’d taught them all to ride in his own stables. He’d made sure that any man who came near them with less than honorable intentions left knowing who he had to deal with should he step out of line.

  Chester imagined by the time he had his own daughters he’d be well practiced for the role.

  But for now, he considered it his personal duty to make sure all of the Northumberland Nine were treated respectfully by the gentlemen for the next two weeks. And God only hoped at least one of them could make a favorable match and the rest would not have to so recklessly choose a husband. He turned and strolled back toward the drawing room, having gathered his troubled thoughts and buried them for the time being. As he approached, he saw Bernie and Anne whispering together.

  Bernie threw her head back and laughed, her curls bouncing, the light catching on the glossy dark ringlets. The skin at the back of his neck prickled and his worries for the coming days tried to surface again.

  She was trouble, that one, delicious trouble tied with a velvet bow and he’d have the devil of a time keeping her wrapped up. He was certain of it. He’d tried to warn her yesterday when they talked under the oak, a favorite place for both of them, but she’d been distracted and moody with him.

  “What is so amusing?” he asked as he approached. Everyone else had gone to settle into their appointed rooms before meeting for tea on the terrace.

  Bernie instantly sobered. “What business is it of yours?” she snapped at him. “I’m here alone with my sister. Can I not have a private conversation?”

  He folded his arms, not wanting to engage in another battle with her. “I was simply—”

  “Checking up on me. The bachelors are not here yet, and frankly, I don’t know why you were invited at all. You’re not going to marry one of us, are you?” She pinned him with a stare.

  He blushed, warmth covering his skin and making his clothing instantly uncomfortable, damn her. “Most of the gentlemen attending are friends of mine. In fact, I helped choose which of them to invite.”

  “Wonderful, I’m sure they will bore me to tears now,” she muttered.

  Chester bristled, his anger growing. “You need boring. You’re enough trouble all by yourself.”

  “You think I’m trouble? You have no idea what I’m dealing with at present.”

  “Bernie!” Anne hissed.

  “Have I not been there by your side helping you and your family?” Chester asked, his temper making its rare appearance. “All while you complain about my presence when I am only trying to be a good friend. What would you do without me?”

  “Maybe I’d be married and Anne wouldn’t have been impregnated by a Scotsman!”

  “Bernie!” Anne screamed.

  All the air left Chester’s lungs, but before he could respond, Anne fainted. He jumped into action, swung Anne into his arms, and Bernie frantically led them to Anne’s room, waving away a concerned footman as he appeared in the hall.

  “It’s all right, a sprained ankle is all, nothing to be concerned about,” Bernie called out to the footman.

  Once in the room, Bernie shooed the maid away who was unpacking Anne’s small trunk, and he set her down on the bed. He stood back and Anne stared at him warily. Chester didn’t know what to say, so he began to pace and think aloud. “This—this is bad. Who is the father? He should be made to marry you at once?” He paused in his pacing and faced Anne, his gaze wandering over her figure. “I can tell your shape has changed. Soon everyone else will. What has your family done for you?”

  “They don’t know,” Bernie replied for Anne. “Only you and I and Mr. Hart know.”

  “And you weren’t supposed to know,” Anne grumbled.

  Chester dug his fingers into his hair and tugged on it. “This is madness. Who is the father? I will pay him—”

  “She won’t say,” Bernie cut him off, “and I expected you to react in a calmer fashion, not like this.”

  He clenched his teeth. “You ambushed me.” He rubbed his jaw. Something had popped and now it hurt. “I expected this of you but never Anne,” he blurted, instantly regretting the words. Bernie was the impulsive one, with emotions than ran hot and unbound.

  Bernie spun to face him. “You thought I would beget a child out of wedlock?”

  “Yes!” Chester panicked though it wasn’t the least bit true, but he wasn’t capable of intelligent thought, his mind was still seized by the idea that Anne was pregnant. He focused on Bernie. Her eyes blazed with fury and her cheeks were flushed. Her too short and too tight bodice heaved with her angry breaths, and it was difficult to keep his gaze on her face.

  “You are easily seducible,” he blurted. Where had that come from? He didn’t mean it like that, he only meant that men would take one look at her and instantly want her. Christ, he was losing it.

  “What does that even mean? You think I’m stupid enough to be ravished by a rake?”

  Anne clamped her hands over her ears. “Enough! None of this is helping the situation.”

  “How can you think that of me? And you call yourself my friend?”

  Chester tried to cease his rambling, but for the first time in his life, his brain and his mouth were not communicating. He tried to rationalize his words. “You love trouble. Just look at what happened with Violet and Weirick? You were eager to help her create mischief.” Even as he said it he knew how stupid he sounded, but he couldn’t turn the faucet of idiocy off.

  Bernie poked him in the chest. “That was for love.”

  “What about the time you told Billy Topper you’d go swimming with him at night in Middleton pond?”

  “I got three pounds of beef for free for that.”

  “He saw you in a wet night gown,” Chester growled.

  “Why do you care what he sees me in? He swore on his grandmother’s grave he wouldn’t tell a soul and he’s kept his promise. You only know because I told you. I know how to protect myself.”

  He folded his arms, rage at the mere mention of Billy Topper quieting his rabid thoughts and helping him focus. “I care about your family. This is beyond your childish behavior. I can see you don’t understand the magnitude, and so I must again save your hide.” He closed the distance between him and Bernie, leaning over her. “And Billy Topper did tell someone, he told Carlson and the McMackle twins. I had to thrash all three of them into silence. And now I will save you again because your sister needs to marry as soon as possible. I know none of the gentlemen here are up to the task of taking on a bride carrying the child of another man.”

  “What do you think you can do? Nag one of them into marrying her like you nag me?” Bernie returned.


  His thoughts raced. This was the worst thing he could imagine happening to the Marsden family—no, it would be worse if it was Bernie. That would mean she’d lain with a man and that thought paralyzed him. He couldn’t think of Bernie with another man, abandoned and carrying a child. If she was, he knew what he’d do. He’d marry her and protect her as he’d always done. Which was what he would do for Anne because there was nothing in this world Bernie loved more than her sisters. His heart sank to his stomach.

  He straightened. “No. I’ll marry her.”

  Bernie stepped back, and her mouth dropped open. She clamped it shut, sharing a shocked glance with Anne. “You can’t do that. Your father would not let you.”

  Chester swallowed. “He might very well disown me, but I’ve my own money and I can take care of everyone. I’ll take her across the border and marry her before anyone even knows.”

  Anne leapt from the bed. “No. I won’t agree to that. You cannot do that to your family.” She came to Bernie’s side and faced him.

  “No,” Anne repeated. “I won’t do it.”

  “Anne…” Bernie took her hand. “It may well be the only way.

  Chester focused on Bernie. She is agreeing with me? His heart was pounding, and he grew a bit nauseous. He’d never say it, but part of him wanted Bernie to fight him on this.

  “I can’t do it,” Anne argued. “I’d rather… I’ll leave. If none of the gentlemen here will marry me, then I will leave. I’ll join a convent.”

  Chester scoffed and turned away, resuming his pacing by the bed. He fought the urge to tear his hair out and focused on deep breaths and the pattern on the carpet.

  “But this is easier,” he heard Bernie say. His fists clenched.