Charming Artemis by Sarah M. Eden

Chapter Thirty-One

The day arrived for the first of the brothers’ plans to be put in place, plans they likely should have acted on years earlier. Charlie dropped into his bedchamber to fetch his gloves and hat, preparatory to making the journey to Finley Grange.

Unsurprisingly, Artemis was inside. She hadn’t left the room in the daytime for days.

Charlie set his hat and gloves on the bedside table—both far finer than what he’d worn before Wilson, Mr. Layton, and Philip had undertaken his transformation—and sat on the bed next to her. “I’m going to be passing through Collingham. Can I bring you back anything?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

He took gentle hold of her hand. She’d been very distant these past days. While she didn’t speak much, and certainly not on the topic that clearly weighed most on her, she had let Charlie hold her hand. He clung to that small connection and the hope it offered that she wasn’t entirely out of reach.

“Perhaps when I get back, we could go for a walk down to the Trent or take the pony cart over to Collingham,” he said.

“Mr. Finley lives on the other side of Collingham. Despite his . . . kind offer, I do not wish to go anywhere near his home.”

Charlie turned toward her. “What ‘kind offer’?”

She took a weary breath. “He told me, in decidedly oily tones, that he was a very accommodating host and would be quite pleased to play intimate host to a married lady.”

For a moment, he couldn’t respond. Through his shock and anger, he said, “Finley propositioned you?”

“And he made perfectly clear his evaluation of my character, that I was the sort of lady who would unabashedly accept such an offer.” She shuddered a little. “I required all of two seconds to realize the man is a snake. The look on his face after I called him a doddering old man left me with no worries that he’d try again, at least not with me. But I suspect there are plenty of other women he mistreats.”

That was, unfortunately, true. “He has harassed Catherine for years. It’s infuriating.”

Artemis’s gaze settled on the window. “The skies are heavy. I hope you aren’t caught in the rain while you’re out.”

“Philip would never remain out in weather that might render his coiffeur unflattering. And now that I am quite fashionable, I must worry about such things as well.” Doing his best mimic of his oldest brother, Charlie said, “How dare nature wreak havoc on perfection.”

Her fleeting smile was a bit forced, a bit sad. She looked so weighed down. He didn’t know what to do.

“Think about going for a walk with me,” he said. “If the weather doesn’t hold, we can always go tomorrow.”

She nodded, but there was no enthusiasm in it. A few months earlier, he would have dismissed her rejection as a sure sign of her conviction that she was above her company. How little he had understood her then. He saw more of her now. He saw loneliness and pain and a broken heart. He saw a little girl who’d been terribly alone and a lady who had endured too many losses.

Charlie pressed a quick kiss to her hand before rising and taking up his hat and gloves. Her gaze remained on the window, and he could see that her thoughts were far away. Perhaps she would be feeling better by the time he returned.

He was the last to reach the stables. All his brothers, along with Crispin and Linus, were gathered there. Beneath their jovial expressions was determination and focus.

“You’re late,” Harold said, his tone the one he used when sermonizing, yet there was humor in it.

“Artemis was talking,” he said. “She doesn’t do that much anymore. I wasn’t going to simply walk away.”

“How is she?” Layton asked.

All he could do was shrug a little. She wasn’t doing great, but she also wasn’t weeping or shaking her fists at the sky. She wasn’t cursing them all or pushing him forcefully away. She was simply painfully, heartbreakingly sad.

“She did tell me something pertinent to our task today.”

That brought eight pairs of eyes on him.

“The day Finley intercepted Catherine, Marjie, and Artemis on the road, he said more than we were told.”

Crispin’s jaw tightened. Stanley’s soldier’s bearing grew even more intimidating.

“He invited Artemis to join him at his estate, and not, you will understand, for afternoon tea.” Charlie took a calming breath. “No true gentleman would make such a brazenly insulting suggestion to a lady.”

“I’ll kill him,” Linus said firmly.

“Murder is off the table,” Philip said. No one could have missed or misunderstood the intensity in his posture and voice. “But that doesn’t mean we will allow this putrescence to infect the neighborhood any longer.”

They all mounted and set their horses in the direction of Finley Grange. Philip and Crispin led the group, with the others following, matching their pace.

“Did anyone tell Mater what we were off to do?” Charlie asked Layton, riding near him.

With an expression that clearly said, “Are you daft?” Layton shook his head no.

“Would Father have also disapproved?” Charlie didn’t care for the idea of doing something his father would have condemned.

“I did mention to Lord Aldric that we were undertaking a punitive mission at Finley Grange. He told me that Father once beat the tar out of Finley’s father.”

This was news. “For what, do you suppose?”

“He didn’t say. But Father wouldn’t have taken such drastic action if it hadn’t been warranted.”

“Would he consider our anticipated action warranted?” Charlie didn’t remember him well enough to know for certain.

Layton seemed to sense how much he needed a sincere answer. “I can guarantee, Charlie, if Father were here and knew how Finley had mistreated Catherine these past years, the things he said to Clara in the weeks before she married Corbin, and the insulting way he spoke to Artemis, Father would be leading this procession of justice. He was, generally speaking, lighthearted and jovial, but he was formidable and forceful when he needed to be.”

“You and Philip are both like that,” Charlie said.

“Someone should probably warn Finley that you are as well.”

It was one of the best compliments he’d ever received. He’d tried for so long to carve out a distinct place for himself among his brothers. But he’d also needed, as it turned out, to know he was like them.

Linus rode up even with them and spoke to Charlie. “I realize the earl has declared that capital punishment is not on the day’s agenda, but what, do you suppose, are the odds you and I will ignore the earl?”

“Considering what he said to our Artemis . . . ” Charlie let the sentence dangle unfinished. He knew Linus didn’t actually intend to murder Finley. Charlie didn’t either. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t take a little satisfaction in hinting that they might.

“How is she today?” Linus asked. “I’m worried about her.”

“So am I.”

They rode on, the brothers talking amongst themselves. Linus kept his horse alongside Charlie’s.

“Your mother gave me some letters for Artemis,” Linus said. “But she wouldn’t take them from me. I still have them. If I gave them to you, would you keep them safe until she’s ready to read them?”

“Of course,” Charlie said. “She’s doing the same for me with my father’s letter and book.”

“I didn’t know your father, but I will be forever grateful to him for his tenderness toward my sister when she was, unknown to all of us, drowning in loneliness and rejection. Your father was a remarkable gentleman.”

“He was.” Charlie might not have known everything about his father, but he knew that much was true. “And apparently, he once pounded the previous Mr. Finley to something of a pulp. Seems we’re carrying on a family tradition.”

“A tradition I am honored to be included in.”

They reached Finley Grange, nine pairs of set shoulders, nine pairs of focused and determined eyes. Philip knocked on the door. The butler answered.

“We’re here to see Mr. Finley,” Philip said.

The bewildered servant eyed the gathering. “All of you?”

Crispin nodded. “Our business with him is of a very pressing nature. So if you think he’ll slither off if told we’re all here, we’d appreciate you keeping the details of our arrival to a minimum.”

That the butler nodded his immediate agreement spoke volumes of what little loyalty Finley inspired in his staff. He, no doubt, mistreated them the way he did most everyone else. They were shown inside and led to a finely furnished but uninviting drawing room.

The avenging angels made themselves at home, some lounging at their leisure in chairs, a couple leaning against the fireplace mantel. Charlie sat on the window seat, his eyes focused on the drawing room door, waiting for the arrival of their query.

“I recognize the look in your eye, Charlie,” Jason said. “You really aren’t allowed to murder him.”

Charlie shrugged. “I know the local squire. He’ll take my side.”

Philip had recently reclaimed that role. He shook his head in amused understanding. None of them meant to resort to physical violence if it could be helped.

Footsteps approached. They all turned in that direction, though those sitting didn’t rise, and those leaning didn’t stand up straight. No one looking on could possibly have mistaken the utter lack of respect felt for the man who sauntered inside in the next moment.

“I understand I have visi—” Finley’s smirk of self-satisfaction froze. His gaze swept over all of them. After a moment, he recollected himself. “What brings the lot of you around here?”

They’d all agreed to follow Philip’s lead, so everyone waited to let him begin.

“We came to make certain you weren’t deteriorating too quickly,” Philip said. “One hears so many concerned whispers.”

Finley’s brow pulled in. “Whispers?”

Philip looked to Layton, assuming an expression of pity. “He’s even repeating things. The situation is worse than we realized.”

“Poor man.” Layton clicked his tongue. “Dr. Scorseby should be called for.”

“I haven’t time for your ridiculousness.” Finley turned as if to leave.

Linus had moved to stand in the doorway, blocking the man’s retreat. “Make time.”

“Who are you?” Finley asked in insultingly dismissive tones.

“Linus Lancaster. Former lieutenant in the Royal Navy. Brother-in-law of the infamous Duke of Kielder. Righter of wrongs. Dispenser of justice.”

“Lancaster?” Finley said. “Your youngest sister—”

“Is not the topic of this conversation.” Charlie spoke firmly as he rose to his feet.

Finley looked back at them all. Whatever uncertainty he might be feeling was tucked behind an air of condescension and arrogance. “I suppose one of you will decide to tell me what is the topic of this conversation.”

Crispin stepped away from the fireplace and strode with slow, purposeful steps toward Finley, never looking away from him. “The topic is your ailing health, your decreasing ability to go about in public and interact with . . . anyone. We’ve come because we are concerned about you.” Nothing in Crispin’s tone was solicitous. It was hard and unyielding.

Finley, no doubt, knew what they were actually discussing. Gentlemen did not bandy ladies’ names about. When matters such as these were settled, both parties abided by that part of the gentleman’s code. Both accepted the necessity of speaking in ciphers.

Corbin strode to where Crispin stood. Their quietest brother broke his usual silence with a firm and intense declaration. “The area around Havenworth is also no place for a man of . . . failing health.”

Havenworth was Corbin’s estate.

“I can go where I choose,” Finley said.

Harold set a conciliatory hand on Finley’s shoulder. “If you do, give me ample warning so I can administer your last rites.”

Finley looked them over. “Are you threatening me?”

“What reason would we have for threatening you?” Stanley asked in far too innocent a tone.

“Jealousy?” he sneered.

“George, George, George.” Philip shook his head slowly with a look of sorrow. “You’ve missed your nap, haven’t you? You’re not making the least sense.”

Finley’s lips tightened. “Do not act like a buffoon. I know perfectly well why you’re here.”

“Concern for your health,” Crispin said firmly, unyieldingly.

“We’ve butted heads before.” Finley’s eyes slid over all of them. “But this time, you’re not so secure in your position. And I know perfectly well why.” His gaze rested on Charlie. “She didn’t actually turn me down, you know.”

“Have at him, Tadpole,” Philip growled out.

Charlie hardly needed permission. He pounded his fist into George Finley’s nose, sending the cad to the ground. Layton yanked him back to his feet.

“You broke my nose.” Finley was bloodied and already bruising.

“You’re fortunate that’s all he broke.” Linus growled out the warning as he joined Charlie in glaring down the man who’d insulted a lady who meant the world to both of them.

Layton didn’t release his hold on Finley.

Philip nudged Charlie aside. His oldest brother looked, in that moment, terrifying. “The members of our family will be protected at all costs from illnesses such as yours,” he told Finley in a tone of stern warning. “We will do what must be done to safeguard them. But our protection extends beyond our immediate circle. So long as you make the women of this world feel unsafe, we will make certain this world is unsafe for you. We are everywhere, Finley, with more connections, more eyes and ears, more accomplices than you can possibly imagine.”

For the first time in Charlie’s memory, their bounder of a neighbor truly looked worried. The blood dripping onto his shirt added to the distress in his expression.

Linus joined Philip, inches away from Finley. “And you have now crossed a member of the Duke of Kielder’s family. I have seen what he does to people who hurt or mistreat those he cares about. And make no mistake, his youngest sister-in-law is precious to him.”

Finley’s worry turned to terror.

“The gentlemen in this room have vowed not to do you significant violence,” Linus said. “The Dangerous Duke never makes that vow. There is no law he cannot break, no punishment he cannot deliver with impunity. You have just made an enemy more dangerous than any you could possibly imagine.”

“Convalesce, Finley,” Philip said, patting him patronizingly on the shoulder. “Your health depends upon it.” He walked past the man and out the drawing room door.

“I ought to have pummeled you ages ago,” Crispin said. “Seems to me there are dozens now who will gladly do it for me. Or with me. Choose wisely.” He rapped a knuckle against Finley’s swelling nose. The man winced, but Crispin didn’t let up. “Noses can only be straightened so many times.” He patted Finley’s face, though it was more of a slap, then followed Philip’s path.

Jason approached him next. “I have contacts throughout London. You set one foot in Town and all the Jonquils and Lancasters will know.”

As he stepped out of the room, Corbin paused in front of their mutual enemy. He didn’t speak; he simply watched Finley with a calm focus that promised retribution should it prove necessary. Then, without a word, he left as well.

Layton still had hold of Finley, holding him firm and forcing him to face those who had come to deliver their message of impending doom.

Stanley offered the next warning. “Lest you think the north of England is safe, that is where I live, along with a great many men I served with. They will also be very concerned about the state of your health.”

Finley nodded, the movement small and quick.

Harold made his comment casually as he strode slowly past. “I’ll pray for you. Seems to me you need it.”

Charlie closed the distance between himself and Finley. He lowered his voice to a tense and threatening whisper. “Should there be a next time, I will do far more than break your nose.”

Layton released Finley with a shove. “Have a nice day.”

They left the house. The rest of the brothers were waiting for them.

Philip approached. When they’d first set out, Philip had been quite clear about his expectations for this encounter, and Charlie had violated them.

“I know you said we weren’t coming to do him any physical harm,” Charlie said, “but—”

Philip dropped an arm around his shoulders. “What he said about Artemis was unforgivable. He’s fortunate to have endured so little ‘physical harm.’”

“Do you think he’ll actually stop causing misery?” Charlie had his doubts.

Linus was the one who answered. “I don’t intend to leave His Grace in the dark about Mr. Finley’s behavior. With your family here keeping an eye on him and the threat of the most dangerous man in the kingdom looming beyond this area, I would wager the bounder will begin making some significant life changes.”

“I will make one final request.” Philip looked over them all. “No one tells Mater.”

They all agreed. Their mother wasn’t at all the fragile sort who couldn’t handle hearing of life’s difficulties. But she hardly needed more to worry about. They would save her that.

The brothers were soon on their horses and making their way back home. Philip rode beside Charlie, a rare opportunity for conversation. It seemed ages since they’d truly talked, just the two of them.

“I think I have a solution to the difficulties with Sorrel’s wheeled chair,” Charlie said.

“Truly?” Philip’s undivided attention was on him.

“A single wheel in the back, but near to the frame of the chair so it doesn’t get in the way when she’s moving about. And if the wheel is placed on a caster, it will work almost like a rudder, making it even more agile.”

Philip nodded. “But will it be stable? I will not put her at risk of being injured.”

“She’ll need rests for her feet—they can’t simply be left to dangle. If that rest is placed at the right height and angle, it would stop the chair from tipping forward without preventing it from moving.”

“You think it would work?” Philip pressed.

“I do, provided it can be made.”

“We need only have Sarah take your specifications to the blacksmith,” Philip said. “He’ll make any contraption she asks for.”

“Leaving you with the task of convincing your stubborn wife to use the chair.”

Philip let out a tight breath. “That is the trickiest part of it.”

“I wish you luck with that,” Charlie said. “I’ll keep to the far simpler world of theoretical mathematics.”

“I struggle to reconcile myself to the reality that you’re a mathematical genius, Tadpole. I still remember when you ate dirt in the back garden.”

Charlie didn’t remember that, but he believed it. “Why have you started calling me Tadpole again? You haven’t since I was little.”

“We used to call you that all the time before Father died,” Philip said. “Lately, I see more of the joyfully content little brother I knew then.” He tossed Charlie a smile free of his usual dramatics. “Having Artemis in your life has been good for you.”

Though Charlie never would have believed it possible mere months earlier, Artemis was a crucial part of his happiness and his hope for the future. He couldn’t imagine his life without her.

And he very much feared he was losing her.