Читать книгу Regency Affairs Part 2: Books 7-12 Of 12 - Ann Lethbridge - Страница 58

Alec sat there with his head in his hands. His lust for her was raging. The hardness between his thighs still throbbed.

Rosalie Rowland. Writer, courtesan and all-round troublemaker. In her way she’d been absolutely right to accuse him of trying to impress her with this magnificent place that he’d once called home. Certainly, he’d hoped to trick her into making mistakes. Yet it was he who had handled everything so badly.

In fact, until she’d let her damned fichu slip like that, he’d begun to feel that he’d got everything wrong about her. He clenched his jaw. Damn it, she’d had a lucky escape. One more minute of her passionate response to his foolhardy kiss and he’d have been hard-pressed to stop himself ravishing her there and then.

Alec got to his feet and paced the room like a caged animal. Why had he let things go so far? Well, he had plenty of answers. Not least of his motivations—and certainly the worst—was his impulse to prove to himself that she was indeed any man’s for the taking.

Yet once again he’d been baffled by Rosalie Rowland. Most women of experience would have realised that Alec was aroused virtually to the point of no return. Most women would have offered some sort of physical relief—but she had made no attempt whatsoever to assuage his rampant desire.

The enigmatic, tormenting Mrs Rowland. Everything about her stoked up the fire of his vital male urges—but ever since that first night at the Temple of Beauty, he’d not been able to make sense of her. He was utterly perplexed by the way she moved and spoke so gracefully, by the way she’d so solemnly examined those pictures for him and calmly delivered her judgement.

At Dr Barnard’s tawdry show she’d stood out from the other jades like a pure-white wax candle burning amidst a mass of burned-down tallow ones. But how could she be unspoiled? Innocent? No. For God’s sake, she’d been married, she’d been at the Temple of Beauty! She was still lying to him; he’d still be thinking Katy was hers, had it not been for Mary’s suspicions—’She doesn’t even know the child’s age for sure, Captain Stewart!’ And of course there was Garrett’s news that last winter Rosalie had been visiting one London theatre after another, asking for someone called Linette.

Who was Linette? Alec drove one fist against the other. Who had sent that nasty threat? Who was trying to bribe Alec’s men to betray her? What the hell had he let himself in for, by offering to protect her?

Upstairs, Rosalie gazed at herself in the cheval glass. She’d swiftly got changed back into the old, drab gown, but she had yet to summon up the courage to go downstairs and face him after betraying herself yet again, this time with so much more than a kiss.

Dear God. The pleasure, the molten ecstasy summoned by his mouth, his long lean fingers …

She saw in the mirror that her lips were rosy and swollen from the harshness of his mouth. You must tell him that Katy is your dead sister’s child. You must ask him why Linette named him as she lay dying.

Not tomorrow. Not later. But now.

She pressed her palms to her hot cheeks. One thing was certain. She could not go on much longer in this hell of uncertainty.

She went downstairs slowly, wearing her old grey mantle. Alec was at the far side of the room and he barely glanced at her. Clearly, she realised with a lurching stomach, he regretted what had just happened every bit as much as she did. He said, ‘A few more minutes and we’ll be ready to leave. I told Garrett to pick us up at six.’

She nodded, realising he was going round extinguishing the candles. He’d taken off his fine coat and his shirt sleeves fell back to his elbows as he reached for the higher sconces, revealing strong brown forearms that rippled with muscle and sinew.

Rosalie was about to tear her eyes away, but suddenly, in the flickering half-light, she saw an ugly, jagged scar that snaked up from his wrist. ‘Oh, my goodness.’ The words burst out on impulse. ‘Whatever happened to your arm?’

He glanced at it almost casually. ‘That? A French bayonet at Vittoria.’

Her mind reeled. ‘But …’

‘It was the battle that finally drove the French out of Spain,’ he said tersely. ‘June 1813.’

‘I know.’ Her lips and tongue would hardly work. ‘I know … Alec, were you there?’

He let out a sharp laugh. ‘Don’t make a hero out of me. Any soldier who could hold a weapon was at Vittoria. We were outnumbered and it was a desperate struggle, full of scenes I hope you can’t begin to imagine.’

‘Were you with Wellington’s army all that summer?’

‘All that year,’ he answered shortly. ‘No home leave for the officers.’

The full implications of it tore through her whole being. Dear God. He was in Spain with the army when Linette was seduced. He could not be Katy’s father …

‘Alec,’ she whispered. What could she say? She knew what she should say. Alec, I have been so determined to misjudge you. I have wronged you grievously …

He turned to her and at that very moment she saw just a man, a brave man—a hero, whatever he said, for some reason in a state of utter self-loathing. Alec, I’m so sorry. She went deliberately towards his tense figure and placed her hand on that ugly scar.

He caught her hand and pushed it away. He was towering over her and she felt fear scudding through her again as he said roughly, ‘You have a liking for playing with fire, Mrs Rowland.’

She stood firm. He thought that her gentle caress—really an acknowledgement of her own fallibility—was just another attempt to entrap him. But now she knew. Now was the time to speak.

She lifted her head. ‘Alec, you told me that Katy and I would be safe with you. And I wish, how I wish, that I’d trusted you. I—I’ve been foolish, I’ve been wrong … But now I want to tell you that Katy was my sister’s child.’

He’d gone very still. ‘Linette,’ he breathed. ‘Linette was your sister.’

Her gaze flew up to meet his. ‘You knew already—how?’

He was rubbing his forehead as if some tight band enclosed it. ‘Damn it, I’ve been making my own investigations. I know you were only at the Temple for one night, but before then you’d been trailing all round London’s theatres, asking questions. Asking about someone called Linette.’ He pulled out a chair. ‘Explain.’

And her words began to tumble out.

‘Linette was two years younger than me, Alec.’ Her voice was so low, he strained to catch her words. ‘She left home three years ago. She became pregnant in the summer of 1813; Katy is her daughter, Alec, and Linette, poor Linette …’ her voice broke just a little ‘… died in abject poverty. I came to London to look for the man who did this to her.’

‘You should have told me,’ his voice rasped.

‘I could not,’ she breathed, ‘I could not, because at first I thought it was you.’

As she uttered those fateful words, Rosalie felt as if something within her had died. Every syllable condemned her more surely in this man’s eyes. Oh, how he would despise her now.

Explain, he’d said, and it all poured out: how Linette had whispered his name as she lay dying, how Linette had said he had a castle.

He had pulled a chair up for himself, and sat in the half-shadow from the dying fire, watching her. At last he said, ‘She was looking for a refuge, perhaps. Sometimes we take in homeless women as well as men at Two Crows Castle. You’ll have noticed them—often they help Mary with the housework, until we can find them somewhere better.’

‘Yes.’ She nodded, her throat still tight. ‘My sister whispered, “Take me to him, please”. I thought—I thought perhaps she’d loved you, but now I see that she’d not even met you, Alec. You don’t turn anyone away and Linette must have heard that. I realise everything now.’

Too late.

From first seeing him, Rosalie had been drawn to his—integrity, that was the word. Alec had maintained Two Crows Castle because he cared about those soldiers. He had rescued her from Lord Maybury because he was concerned about her and Katy. Katy had trusted him straight away. If only she’d done the same. He would never, ever forgive her for her stupidity.

‘Anyone would have told you I was in Spain with the army all through the summer of 1813,’ he said, only echoing her own bitter regrets. ‘And you were taking a great risk, asking your questions all around London.’

‘I thought I was being careful.’ She was defensive now and growing tired.

‘You’ve managed to alarm someone—badly. Don’t forget about that threat and the bribes offered to my men.’

She lifted her gaze to him. ‘Is Linette’s seducer behind it all?’

‘I would think so indeed,’ he answered quietly.

Oh, God. No word of reproach for her vile insults to him, her foolish actions, her multiple mistakes. She dragged air into her lungs. ‘Alec,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry, to have so wrongly suspected you. I’ve been so stupid. Why are you being kind to me?’

He sighed, then got up and walked over to the mantelpiece to douse another flickering candle. ‘Perhaps because I don’t like injustice. And don’t be so hard on yourself. On the contrary, I think you’ve been rather brave, coming to London and undertaking the search on your own.’

‘Linette was my sister,’ she answered simply. ‘Wouldn’t anyone do the same for their family? Isn’t family loyalty perhaps the most basic human instinct of all?’

He caught his breath. ‘Your loyalty is indeed admirable,’ was all he said. ‘Do you have any more clues, apart from the fact that Linette wanted to be an actress and once worked at the Temple of Beauty?’

She told him about Marchmont’s theatre, and Dr Barnard’s register, hidden inside The Myths of Apollodorus. He listened intently.

‘I’ll make enquiries, as well,’ he said.

She gasped. ‘You will?’

‘Put it this way—someone dangerous is after you and I’d rather like to find out who. No promises, but my men are useful at unearthing secrets.’ He looked at his watch and gave her a smile that sent her spirits plummeting, because it was a sad smile, a regretful smile. ‘Time to get back to Two Crows Castle, Rosalie. Though there is just one more thing. You’ve already understood, I think, that you must place yourself in my care, under my protection. In return, I’ll make a promise to you. From now on, I’ll ensure that you can trust me. In absolutely every way. Do I make myself clear?’

Oh, yes. She knew exactly what he meant. In other words, he wouldn’t lay a finger on her again. She got to her feet slowly and an ache of sheer loss swept through her at the memory of those burning caresses to which she’d so rapturously surrendered. ‘I don’t think you should take any blame for what happened just now,’ she whispered.

Something of her inner misery must have shown, because he touched her hand gently. ‘Nor yourself, Rosalie. We’ll find the man who seduced your sister, never fear—and I suspect we’ll find he’s the same man who is threatening you.’ His hand was gone, leaving her cold. ‘In the meantime,’ he went on, ‘my men deserve a pleasant surprise. Don’t you think?’ He’d carelessly pulled on his fine coat again, then picked up some empty sacks she’d not noticed before and began to load food from the table into them. Hams, pies, whole cheeses, loaves of bread—in they went, until the sacks were bulging.

She gasped. ‘What are you doing?’

He grinned, white teeth flashing. ‘Taking this lot back to Two Crows Castle. Jarvis brought me these sacks while you were upstairs. I rather think this food is needed there more than here, don’t you?’

She thought of the hungry, ragged soldiers. ‘Oh, indeed! But—won’t it be missed?’

‘I told you my father’s gone to the country and won’t be wanting any of this. So I’m helping myself. How does that rate on your journalist’s scale of crimes?’

‘I think it’s an excellent idea! But, Alec …’

‘Hmm?’ He was still packing the things, but he swung round to look at her.

‘Alec,’ she said impulsively, ‘there’s always a cluster of beggars at the corner of Lothbury. We passed them on our way. There’s so much food here—will you give a little of it to them, on our way back?’

‘Willingly. If you’ll also take a sack and put in some of those pies that are on the sideboard, I’ll tell Jarvis we’re leaving. And I’ve got something for him.’ He flourished the list he’d made of the counterfeit paintings.

‘The paintings! I’d almost forgotten. Oh, what are you going to do about them?’

‘Make sure the originals all mysteriously find their way back here,’ he assured her. ‘Now, if you look outside, I think you’ll find Garrett’s arrived with transport.’ He strode to the door. ‘Jarvis!’

The elderly steward quickly appeared. ‘Sir?’ Alec gave him his list and had a quiet word before heading for the door. Indeed, out in the street were Garrett and big red-bearded Sergeant McGrath with a shabby old carriage.

‘Some supplies, lads, for Two Crows Castle,’ Alec announced cheerfully, pointing towards the sacks of food assembled in the hall.

‘Yes, sir!’ Eagerly the men began to load the carriage. Alec helped, too, and when they were finished he guided Rosalie out to the vehicle.

‘That’s about it,’ Alec said to Garrett. He looked around. ‘Oh, and by the way—we’re going to drop a sack of food off at the corner of Lothbury.’

‘Right you are, Captain.’ Garrett nodded. He turned with an awkward smile to Rosalie. ‘All right, ma’am? Your little ‘un, she’s fine, but she’ll be glad to see you back!’ Then he scrambled up on to the driver’s box next to McGrath, who was already holding the reins.

Alec shot Rosalie a look of complete astonishment. ‘My God. Garrett smiled at you. What magic have you worked on him?’

‘I don’t know really. Perhaps it’s because I was kind to his dog?’

Alec lifted his eyebrows. ‘You’re a witch, Mrs Rowland,’ he said softly, ‘and in another few days you’ll have us all eating out of the palm of your hand.’

Rosalie froze again. Mrs Rowland—oh, God. She’d told him about Linette, but she hadn’t confessed to the rest of her lies—for example, her fictitious widowhood. But if she told him she was not married, he would perhaps start to doubt every single thing she’d ever said and might refuse to let her stay at Two Crows Castle. Might refuse flatly to help her any further.

He was watching her quizzically. ‘Something wrong?’

‘No!’ She shook her head, forcing a smile. ‘And, Alec—thank you. For offering me your help.’

‘Think nothing of it.’ He was about to hand her up into the carriage, but then he hesitated. ‘Although one thing worries me. Even though we know—you and I—that you are quite safe with me, staying at Two Crows Castle, your reputation will be shot to pieces, to put it politely.’

She almost laughed. That was the least of her problems. ‘Oh, goodness! And there was I, hoping for a top-lofty proposal or two at the start of the next Season! I’m afraid, Captain Stewart, that my hopes for a respectable future are already pretty low. And appearing at the Temple of Beauty most definitely did nothing to improve my chances!’

‘You had no dreams of getting married again?’ he asked quietly.

‘Lord, no.’

‘You feel that no one could replace your husband?’

She shrugged. ‘If you wish to put it like that, yes.’

He was watching her carefully. ‘Mrs Rowland—Rosalie—I hope we can at least be friends.’

She nodded mutely as he handed her in and followed behind. Out on the driver’s box, Garrett and Sergeant McGrath were singing heartily as the horses pulled the laden coach briskly eastwards into darker, narrower streets. Alec joined in, his voice a melodious baritone that she instantly adored.

‘Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules,

Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these.

But of all the world’s great heroes, there’s none that can compare

With a tow, row, row, row, row, row

To the British Grenadiers …’

He smiled at her. She smiled back, even joining in the chorus. But her heart was heavy. She had mistrusted him and lied to him. Yes, she now had him on her side in her struggle to find Linette’s seducer. But he had also promised her that he would never touch her again and she was just realising how devastating those simple words could be.

‘Horse,’ said Katy, happily waving her new little wooden toy. ‘Horse.’

Katy was in the parlour off the kitchen when they returned, sitting in Mary’s comfortable lap. All around was evidence of a pleasant family shopping trip: gingerbread men, a penny whistle, ribbons and other toys. ‘We took the children up Bishopsgate,’ Mary explained. ‘With some of the Captain’s men, of course. I do hope you don’t mind, ma’am?’

‘Not at all.’ Rosalie smiled down at Katy. ‘Your little horse is beautiful, darling.’

‘For Polly-doll.’ Katy perched her little rag doll on the new horse. Alec had entered the room behind Rosalie and came over to gently ruffle the child’s dark hair. When Rosalie saw the look of tenderness in his eyes for Katy, it lanced her.

‘Bedtime, Katy,’ she said lightly. She picked the little girl up, breathing in the sweet infant scent of her skin, and started for the stairs, but turned back. ‘Thank you,’ she said fervently to Mary and Garrett and all the others, ‘for looking after her so well today. For looking after both of us so well.’

Mary beamed. ‘It’s a pleasure, ma’am.’

Rosalie put Katy carefully in her little bed and sang her sister’s child to sleep. Alec had offered her his help and protection; therefore she had to endure living under the roof of a man who affected her as no man ever had done before. And Lord, it was going to be difficult.

Alec went to his room and cursed softly under his breath. Ever since he’d seen Rosalie Rowland at the Temple of Beauty, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. And today, at his father’s house, how he’d managed to control himself, he’d never know.

He could have taken her so easily. But he’d restrained himself with an iron will, because he still had not been sure of her motives. And—because, strangely, she seemed to trust him. She wouldn’t if she knew his secrets.

He raked his hand through his hair. Earlier today, a note had been delivered for him. He’d cracked open the seal with a bitter heart, not needing to look at the signature to know who it was from, because he was already alerted by the faint scent of gardenias that imbued the expensive notepaper.

Alec. I am back in London before your father, who is following in a few days. I’m staying in Bedford Street, because the Belgrave Square house needs to be prepared. I know there are risks, my dear, but might I see you at Lord Fanton’s ball? There are things I need to tell you.

It was from his stepmother. His beautiful stepmother. And Lord Fanton’s ball was tomorrow night.

There was a knock and Garrett came in. ‘Captain. You asked us to find out who started the fire at the place where the girl lived—and who smashed up the printing press there, too.’

‘I take it you’ve found out?’

And Garrett told him.

After Garrett left, Alec paced the room. Stephen’s men. In God’s name, why?

He rather feared he was beginning to know the answer.

That night Stephen was at his father’s house and in a raging temper. This evening’s gathering was to have been a fine one for his friends: a delectable supper followed by drinking and gaming, with a few high-class whores performing their tricks at midnight.

But—there had been no food. No wine. Devil take it, Stephen’s failure of a party would be sniggered over around the clubs of London for weeks to come, thanks to his damned brother!

And then Jarvis, the old fool, had directed Stephen specifically to the drawing room, where he was immediately confronted with—the paintings. The labels that had been tied to one frame after another. Counterfeit, those labels had screamed out in large letters. Stephen had roamed the house, his agitation increasing. Counterfeit. And every identification, without fail, was correct.

It must be Alec! But how had his damned brother detected it, when the whole business had been conducted with such care? Sending them for cleaning, having them copied and selling off the originals had seemed an inspiration.

Hell’s teeth, would Alec tell their father?

Finally there was the fact—which he’d forced out of old Jarvis—that Alec still had the girl, Rosalie, from the Temple of Beauty, under his protection. And Stephen was beginning to guess that the child she kept with her might not be Rosalie’s at all.

His threats had achieved nothing. He’d hoped to bribe some of Alec’s ruffians into betraying her, but the opposite seemed to have happened. Damn it all, this could be lethal. Especially if Alec was starting to guess the truth!