The Riddle of Alabaster Royal (Regency Romance) - Softcover

Veryan, Patricia

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0449001342 ISBN 13: 9780449001349

Publisher: Ivy Books, 1998

Synopsis

WHICH WAS MORE INTRIGUING--
THE GRAND ESTATE OR THE FEISTY FEMALE?

When Captain Jack Vespa suffers a head injury in battle, he chooses to recuperate at his family's estate, the dilapidated--some say haunted--Alabaster Royal. It is there he meets, in a rather surprising fashion, Lady Francesca and her lovely, if volatile granddaughter, Miss Consuela Jones.

Determined to discover who murdered Consuela's father, it seems these two interlopers have made themselves at home. The mystery, Consuela avows, has to do with this estate. And much to his dismay, Jack indeed discovers some devilish doings at the old manse. Moreover, he cannot help but discern that the lovely Consuela is as enticing as the riddle of Alabaster Royal!

Patricia Veryan is a winner of the Lifetime Achievement Award from Romantic Times

About this title

From the Back Cover

"No one, absolutely no one, creates more heartstopping adventure than Ms. Veryan."
--Romantic Times

From the Inside Flap

RE INTRIGUING--
THE GRAND ESTATE OR THE FEISTY FEMALE?

When Captain Jack Vespa suffers a head injury in battle, he chooses to recuperate at his family's estate, the dilapidated--some say haunted--Alabaster Royal. It is there he meets, in a rather surprising fashion, Lady Francesca and her lovely, if volatile granddaughter, Miss Consuela Jones.

Determined to discover who murdered Consuela's father, it seems these two interlopers have made themselves at home. The mystery, Consuela avows, has to do with this estate. And much to his dismay, Jack indeed discovers some devilish doings at the old manse. Moreover, he cannot help but discern that the lovely Consuela is as enticing as the riddle of Alabaster Royal!

Patricia Veryan is a winner of the Lifetime Achievement Award from Romantic Times

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Spain, June 1813

Desperate to find shelter from the hail of shot, Captain Jack Vespa
crawled on doggedly. Even if he still had the strength to call for help,
it would have been pointless; the French cannonade drowned out all lesser
voices. He was finding it increasingly difficult to see now, and when his
groping left hand slid over an edge, for a heart-stopping moment he
thought he was going to plunge down the high crag above the river Zadorra.

"Hey! A new arrival, my Tobias!" The voice that came through a lull in the
uproar was strained but undeniably British.

Another voice said an unsteady, "Ain't wearing red or green. I say--this
shell hole is under British occu-occupation, Monsieur, so you'd best
surren--"

"Don't be a dolt, Toby. It's a blue coat! We're visited by a mighty Staff
Officer, no less!"

"Oh, egad! One of his lordship's famous 'Family'!"

A shell screamed overhead.

"Best not hang about, sir," urged the first voice. "Come on in."

Vespa lowered himself cautiously, then rolled and for a minute or two lay
still, pain causing him to curse faintly. The cannonade resumed but seemed
less ear-splitting. Hands were touching him; something was wiping his face
and he could focus again. A youthful, smoke-blackened countenance, framed
by curling light brown hair, bent over him. "Lieutenant Tobias Broderick,
sir. Forty-fifth."

Vespa blinked at him stupidly. "You're Third Division. What the hell . . .
are you doing up here?"

Broderick bent lower so as to hear the gasped-out words. He clutched his
side painfully, but roared, "Old Picton properly got his nose out of joint
when his lordship sent word we were to support the Seventh. So we charged
like the devil at the French centre. My poor hack was hit and bolted, and
I--er--rather tumbled in here."

"I see. Who's that?"

"Oh, yes. I'm binding him up. Musket ball's smashed his shoulder and
broken his collar-bone by the looks of it. I'll help you first, sir.
You're all blood. Can you see?"

"Not well enough to see your friend, but . . . finish with him. I'll do."

Watching this member of the select few chosen by Wellington as his
personal aides, Broderick thought it more probable that he would die. He
started to crawl back to his first patient, then remembered, and
half-turned to shout with a quivering grin, "You likely know him, sir.
Lieutenant Manderville."

"Manderville?" thought Vespa. It must be some other Manderville. The
tattered casualty lying huddled in a rain-swept shell hole atop a Spanish
crag couldn't possibly be . . . ? Reality melted away.

He opened his eyes and started up, swearing. Broderick was wrapping a torn
piece of shirt tightly around his leg. Catching his breath, he lay back.
"Sorry. Good of you, Broderick. Is--is the bone severed?"

"No, sir. But your leg's pretty damned riddled. I'll get to your arm in a
minute. What happened to your head?"

He'd been returning from delivering a despatch from Lord Wellington to
Colonel Cadogan when a shell had killed his horse under him and sent him
hurtling against a boulder, rendering him senseless. "I dismounted on it,"
he said wryly. He heard a faint laugh. "You wouldn't be Paige
Manderville?" he enquired, peering mistily.

"The debonair Dandy of Mayfair," said Broderick, with a gallant attempt at
a chuckle.

"The devil!" exclaimed Vespa.

"I think I resent that. Sir," complained Manderville.

"I was reacting to--to Broderick's--efforts," gasped Vespa. "Do I mistake
it, or is the cannonade fading? Are you badly mauled, Lieutenant? Can you
shin up there and have a look?"

"Horse rolled on me, sir," said Broderick. "Think he snapped a couple of
ribs. Or something. I'll make a try at it."

Manderville drawled, "You'd best tie up the Captain's arm first, Toby,
before he's bled white."

Broderick investigated. "A piece of shell-casing, by the look of it. I
think I can--" He gave a tentative tug.

Vespa shouted an anguished "No!"

Aghast, Broderick recoiled. "No. I think I won't." He moved in a sideways
crawl to the edge of their shelter and returned to announce that there was
"the devil of a fight round Arinez Hill. I fancy his lordship means to
chase King Joseph all the way back to Paris."

He completed his first aid, then settled himself between the other
casualties, looking from one to the other anxiously.

Manderville said with a sigh, "I don't imagine either of you has a
canteen?"

They hadn't, but the wish had been in all their minds.

"Open your mouth," panted Vespa. "You might . . . catch some rain."

"I might, sir. Except that it's stopped raining."

"Never mind," said Broderick. "We'll have help here in a trice, I don't
doubt."

His optimism proved unfounded. The action that was to be known as the
Battle of Vitoria raged on, and the three young officers lay in their damp
and chilly sanctuary hour after weary hour. They endured their misery in
silence, until Vespa, his mind wandering, muttered, "The crocuses will be
in bloom."

Broderick argued wearily, "Can't say that, sir. It's cro-ci, not -ses."

"No, it ain't," said Manderville. "Lay you a pony it's -ses."

With difficulty Broderick reached Manderville's outstretched left hand.
"You're on! Will you be a witness, sir?"

Vespa gathered his wits and said, "Let's forget rank for a while, shall
we? What are you wagering on?"

The other men exchanged a quick glance.

Broderick said, "You were talking about flowers, Cap-- Jove! We don't know
your name."

"It's Vespa."

"Jack Vespa?" Manderville dragged himself to one elbow. "Aren't you the
fellow who hauled Tim Van Lindsay out of the Esla last month?"

"Tim's a clumsy fellow." Vespa shifted painfully. "Always falling down
something, or--or into something. Was I really talking about flowers?"

"You were," confirmed Manderville. "Like to garden, do you? I've seen your
Richmond house from the river. Beautiful grounds. Do you mean to live
there when we get home?"

It was an effort to talk, but Vespa knew it was as well to try and keep
their minds off things. He said, "No. I've inherited an estate in . . .
Dorsetshire. Never have visited the old place. I rather fancy country
life. My . . . my father won't like it, I fear, but . . . "

Manderville waited, but the sentence went unfinished. "Sir Kendrick don't
approve of me, I fear." He grinned irrepressibly. "Jealous, probably. He's
quite a Non-Pareil."

Vespa's dulled eyes brightened. "Yes. He is."

"Sir Kendrick Vespa!" Broderick exclaimed. "Now I know who you are! Jove!
I'd never have taken you for his son!"

Vespa could not keep back a laugh, and then had to smother a groan. "I
don't have his . . . good looks, is . . . is that what you say?"

"If he does, it's because he's a clumsy clod," grumbled Manderville. "My
nurse came from a hamlet called Pudding Park in Dorsetshire. Anywhere near
your place?"

"No. Alabaster Royal's farther north."

The name struck another chord with Broderick. "Alabaster Royal," he
muttered frowningly. "I've heard something about it. Can't remember what.
Except that it wasn't good."

Manderville gave a moan of exasperation. "And there goes the other foot
into his mouth!"

"Please . . . " whispered Vespa. "Don't make me laugh! . . . Tell
me--Broderick, what you mean to do when . . . when we get home."

"I shall go back to Oxford. Lead the exalted existence of a don amid minds
equal to my own."

Manderville gave a crow of derision.

Vespa peered at the young lieutenant curiously. "You must have done very
well at school."

"Oh, he knows everything," said Manderville, cradling his hurt arm
tenderly. "Except how to come in out of the rain!"

Before Broderick could retaliate, Vespa asked, "What about you? Certainly,
you have the pick of London's Fairs at your feet."

"Of course. I've also a comfortable fortune, thank heaven, so I can take
my time about selecting a lady worthy of becoming Mrs. Paige Manderville."

"I am going to be sick," announced Broderick. "Vespa, how can you listen
to such-- Vespa?" He leant closer and scanned the captain apprehensively.

"Is he gone, poor devil?" asked Manderville.

"Not far from it, I'm afraid. Likely he's got a concussion. That's a beast
of a head wound."

"It'll scar him for life, to say the least of it. Pity. He's a good man
from what I've heard." With a sigh, Manderville closed his eyes.

"Paige?" Dismayed, Broderick called, "For Lord's sake, don't you go and
die, too!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Manderville weakly. "Toby, do you really know
something about that inheritance of his--Arabesque something?"

"Alabaster Royal." Broderick hesitated, then muttered, "If only half of
what they say about the estate is truth, it's no place for the
faint-hearted."

"Well, if only half of w...

Edition details

• Publisher: Ivy Books
• Publication date: 1998
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0449001342
• ISBN 13: 9780449001349
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• Number of pages: 320