Читать книгу Unlacing Lilly - Gail Ranstrom - Страница 12

“All I asked was that you locate where the O’Rourkes from Belfast are living.” Devlin took a breath and tried to curb his impatience. He was never at his best in the morning.

Jack Higgins sat across the desk from him, his rugged face furrowed in concern. “And I did. But they are gone.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Jack. Where in blazes would the family go when Miss O’Rourke is about to marry a marquis?”

“That appears to be the problem. The logical conclusion was that they had removed to other lodgings. But I was stymied. London is too large to go knocking door to door.”

“Are you certain they are gone?”

“When there was no sign of a light or life within, I picked the lock on the garden door. They must have let the place furnished because all the furniture remains, but there’s not a single personal item to be found.”

Devlin gritted his teeth. No, damn it! He was too close to let this opportunity slip away. He had to find her. Had to know where she would be at the precise moment he was ready. “The neighbors would know something.”

“I already queried them, Farrell. Let me tell you, they were not pleased to be called from their beds at midnight to answer questions about the O’Rourkes.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That it was a Home Office matter. And that cooperation was in their best interests.”

Yes, Jack could make that believable. “Then what did the neighbors have to say?”

Jack sat back in his chair and took a deep swallow of raw whiskey. He’d refused coffee, saying it might be morning for Devlin, but that he hadn’t been to bed yet. “Said they were a quiet family. Confirmed that there were four girls when they moved in, and one met with some sort of unfortunate end not long after they arrived. One recently married, and there were two still at home. The mother is widowed and, from all accounts, a bit vague and wholly incompetent.”

Devlin tamped down the quick flash of sympathy. Perhaps Miss O’Rourke was not as pampered as she had seemed. She had been wearing darker colors fit for mourning whenever he’d seen her. The neighbors could have the truth of it.

“What of their friends? People who came to call?”

“The neighbors all say they did not notice anyone or anything remarkable. Very few callers, they said. A coach or two just before the one sister married. Then, of a sudden, two coaches appeared yesterday afternoon, trunks and bandboxes were carried out and stuffed in the coaches, and the household departed, servants and all. If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect chicanery of some sort.”

“What? Kidnapping?” Devlin’s stomach clenched. The wedding was tomorrow. If anyone got to Miss O’Rourke before he did, there’d be hell to pay.

“No. Who takes the servants on a kidnapping?” Jack gave him a canny grin. “And what’s your interest in the O’Rourkes, Farrell? You said you had no plans to court one.”

Ah, here was the ever present specter of his birth. Devlin Farrell was not even good enough to court an obscure miss with neither fortune nor title. No, he was about as low as a man could be. A hundred years ago, his hand would have been lopped off for even touching the hem of Miss O’Rourke’s gown. He gave Jack a snort, warning him to drop the subject.

“How do you want me to proceed?” he asked.

“Find the estate agent who is handling the property, and ask him for forwarding information. He should know where they’ve got to.” Meantime, Devlin had his own idea to find her.

“What’s so deuced important about a batch of females from Belfast?”

“It is not about them, Jack. It is about something else entirely.”

“I think you are looking for trouble, lad.”

“When have I not been looking for trouble? Just find them. Before tonight.”

Edwards, her brother-in-law’s valet, presented Lilly with a silver salver bearing a letter with the Rutherford seal. “For you, Miss Lillian. Urgent, I was told.”

Lilly looked around the breakfast table. Of all of them, only Andrew did not look surprised. “Go ahead,” he told her.

She put her teacup down, took the letter, broke the seal, scanned the first lines and felt a warm flush wash through her.

Mama gasped. “What is it?” She leaned forward in anticipation, her hand going to her throat.

“I…I am to be married tomorrow at eleven o’clock.”

Bella and Gina both drew in long breaths and Mama squealed with delight.

Only Andrew maintained a steady composure. “Is that all it says?”

“No. It says that—” She paused to scan the lines again. “That the king has sent his permission for the wedding to proceed as scheduled and that he could not see any reason for general mourning—not even the shortest period, though he has agreed to a short court mourning. The duke further says that I should arrive at their church no later than half past ten tomorrow, and that he has arranged for me to wait in the vestry until all the guests have arrived. He says that the duchess will attend me there. My only duty is to claim my wedding gown at the dressmaker’s this afternoon and ensure that it fits me well.”

“How very thoughtful of the duchess to take on the burden of all the preparations. She is most considerate of our mourning, is she not?” Mama asked.

Lilly did not have the heart to tell her that the duchess had no patience at all with their mourning. She bit her tongue, though, thinking it better for Mama to believe the best of the duchess, as they would all soon be family.

Mama stood and dropped her napkin on her chair. “Mr. Hunter, would it be permissible for me to use your library for a private word with my daughter?”

Andrew had stood when Mama rose and gave a little bow. “Of course, Mrs. O’Rourke.”

Lilly followed Mama down the corridor to Mr. Hunter’s private sanctuary—the only place he’d found peace since the O’Rourkes had moved in, no doubt. What on earth had gotten into her mother?

As soon as Lilly entered the room, her mother pushed the door closed, turned a vivid shade of crimson and began to wring her hands. “I know I have been remiss these past few months, Lilly. But you are my baby, my dear sweet girl. I must pull myself together now, for your sake.”

She drew Mama over to a chair and sat her down. “What is it? Is something wrong with my dowry? Oh, say we have not lost it in investments!”

“No. No, nothing amiss with your dowry, my dear. But…but lacking in your education. I have put this off, thinking it unnecessary should the king deny permission and unless you are truly to be wed. Now that it is final, it is my obligation to inform you of your duties as a wife.”

“Oh, this is not necessary, Mama. You have been a pattern for me in your devotion to Papa. I do not believe you ever failed him.”

“Yes, but…there are other duties that you would not have known about.”

“I really—”

“Duties to be performed only, um, behind closed doors. The bedroom door, to be precise.”

Heat burned her cheeks and Lilly imagined herself every bit as crimson as her mother. Heavens! In all the excitement of the wedding, she had not given much thought to the wedding night. Each time her mind had wandered in that direction, she had quickly thought of something else—her gown, the flowers, her mother’s delight.

“Now sit down, dear, and I shall have to educate you to a woman’s duty.”

Lilly was mortified. She’d been raised around animals and had a fairly good working knowledge of the harsh reality. She further knew that the law required her to submit. As an experiment, she’d even kissed two different boys before leaving Ireland. Surely there was little further she had to know? But she knew her mother, and she knew she would forge ahead, regardless of Lilly’s wishes. Perhaps a little lie?

“Completely unnecessary, Mama. Bella and I had a chat yesterday. She has brought my education up to snuff.”

“Oh.” Looking disconcerted, her mother stood. “Well, then. I suppose there’s nothing more for me to say. I hope she did not neglect to tell you about—”

“I promise, Mama. She neglected nothing.”

“And that you cannot refuse, however much you might want?”

That caused her heart to skip a beat. “Yes, Mama. Even that.” But she had seen the way Bella and Andrew looked at one another and she had to doubt that Bella would ever refuse anything Andrew wanted. Or that he would refuse her.

“I shall have to remember to thank Bella.” And with a monumental sigh of relief, Mama stood and hurried to the door. When she opened it, Gina edged past her and closed her out.

She turned to Lilly and began giggling. “Did she give you the talk?”

Lilly covered her mouth to contain her own giggles as she nodded. She was relieved to see that Gina was becoming more like her old self now that they’d relocated to Mr. Hunter’s house. Perhaps all she’d needed was to feel secure once again.

Gina crossed the room to the bookcases and trailed one finger along the spines. “I wanted to catch you alone, Lilly, and I am afraid there will be little opportunity between now and when you become the Marchioness of Olney. Shall I have to call you Lady Lillian?”

“Of course not.”

When she turned back to Lilly, her expression was serious. “I shall miss you terribly. You realize, do you not, that now I will be all alone with Mama.”

They both began giggling again. “Not entirely,” Lilly reminded. “Mr. Hunter said you and Mama may stay here as long as you wish. And I hope you and Mama will come to stay with me, too, once Olney and I are out of Rutherford and settled in our own place.”

Gina shook her head. “Mama may have missed it, but I have noted how both Olney and his parents look at us. We are beneath them, and they know it. I doubt they will ever let Olney forget it. Mama and I would only be a constant reminder.”

She wanted to refute Gina’s words, but she could not. It was true, and Gina was intelligent enough to have seen it. But the thought of never sharing a room or even the same house with her sisters again brought tears to her eyes. And then a rogue thought occurred to her—did she want to marry a man who would alienate her from her family?

Before she could think further, Gina gave her a fierce hug and dashed out the door. She dabbed at her eyes with a corner of her long sleeve, glad that she had an errand to do. The fresh air and the walk to the modiste would clear her mind and restore her balance.

Devlin watched as Miss O’Rourke huddled beneath the canopy of a sheltering elm in Green Park, her straw bonnet dripping from the sudden rainstorm. She clutched a box against her chest and seemed to be arguing with her maid. A moment later, the maid dashed into the rain and ran along the path. She would likely be going to summon a coach.

This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. It had been easy enough to find out which fashionable modiste had been employed to make the Rutherford wedding gown. He could not imagine the Duchess of Rutherford using an ordinary modiste. And it had been just as easy to discover that the finishing touches were just being made and that the gown would be retrieved before tea.

So he’d waited patiently in his coach across the street from the modiste. It had not mattered to him who came to fetch the frippery, only that whoever it was would lead him back to Miss O’Rourke’s home. And thus he would know where to find her when he was ready.

But this was even better. Miss O’Rourke herself had come to claim her gown. And better still, the storm had broken as his coach was following her home, and she was now alone and vulnerable—an opportunity not to be squandered. While he watched, she fished through her reticule to find a handkerchief to dab the rain from her face and the action dislodged a scrap of paper that fluttered to the ground without her noticing. He gave his driver instructions to wait, hopped down into the rain and crossed the street to the park at a run.

The storm did not let up, but rather increased in intensity. People scattered, running for protection or for the doorways of houses across the street. Even better. They’d be as good as alone. Her back was turned to him and he swept up the small scrap of paper and secreted it in his waistcoat pocket before speaking.

“Miss O’Rourke!”

She spun in his direction, looked momentarily pleased, then covered it quickly. He arrived beside her and removed his hat to shake the rain from the brim.

“Mr. Devlin,” she answered. She brushed the strands of wet hair peeking beneath her bonnet out of her eyes and gave him the tiniest of smiles. “Good heavens! You should not have gotten out of your coach. Now you are all wet.”

“A small price to pay to rescue a pretty girl.” He removed his jacket and made a canopy over her with his arms. “Come, I shall give you a ride home.”

“Oh, thank you, but no. My maid will be returning with an umbrella any moment. She would be terrified to find me gone.”

“We could watch for her along the way. Truly, an umbrella could not give you the protection of a coach.”

“Thank you again, but no. I would not like to do anything that could look improper. Perhaps when Nancy comes back, you could give us both a ride?”

Drat! He could not drag her across the street and toss her into his coach in broad daylight, even if it was in the middle of a drenching thunderstorm. “Properly chaperoned, you mean. Is that because you are to say your vows tomorrow?”

She looked down at her box she clutched to her chest, then back up at him. “Yes. We just heard this morning that the king has given his permission, if not his approval.”

“You look a bit disconcerted about that.”

“I…was not certain it would arrive in time. I really thought there would be a delay.”

“Did you want a delay? Are you having second thoughts, Miss O’Rourke?”

“No!” Her quick denial belied her words. “I mean, of course not. It will be lovely to be a marchioness, and then a duchess.”

She blushed. How charming. He could not resist teasing. “Ah, is that what you are looking forward to?”

A mutinous light filled her eyes. “But of course. How perfectly exquisite to have people defer to me, ape my words and actions, regard me with fear and awe. I cannot think of anything more divine. I would have to be mad to not want it, Mr. Devlin. Of course I want it.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she turned away. Good God! What was wrong with her? “Miss O’Rourke, are you quite all right?”

“Yes!” She gasped and looked at him with a horrified expression. He would wager she had not meant to say any of that aloud, let alone to have betrayed her misgivings.

Devlin chuckled. “If you say so. Just as well that you are not having second thoughts, though. With everything set for tomorrow, it would be a shame to delay or cancel.”

She nodded. “I shan’t. I cannot speak for Olney or his family.”

“He’d be mad to let one more day pass with you not his wife.”

She looked up at him and he was drawn into the raw emotion in her eyes—eyes as clear and seductive as a lazy summer afternoon. The rain had eased somewhat and Devlin slipped his jacket on before he cupped her chin, removed his handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and dabbed at her tears. She sighed and swayed toward him.

Unable to resist, he bent his head until his lips were mere inches away from hers. “You are too damned tempting, Miss O’Rourke.”

She did not move, did not even breathe. Then, as powerless to stop himself as he was to fly, he brushed his lips over hers and groaned. A quick jolt of desire shot through him. Damn! He had not meant for this to happen. He could ill afford any sentiment now. He released her and stepped back. “Olney is a lucky man. I hope he knows that.”

She blinked. “I…I think he would not feel so lucky if he had seen that.” She glanced around, but no one had noticed.

He cleared his throat. “I apologize for my familiarity. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t. And I cannot believe…I allowed you that liberty.”

“Believe me, Miss O’Rourke, I am as surprised as you. Shall we forget it? I swear I shall never mention it again.”

She bobbed her head in agreement and glanced away. Her embarrassment was painfully obvious. “Where has Nancy got to?”

That question was concerning him, as well. She would be back soon, and Devlin did not want to give her any chance to ask questions or be able to describe him later. “I think we can safely assume that Nancy will wait for the worst of this to pass before she comes after you. I am afraid you shall have to come with me or wait beneath a dripping tree.”

“It is not necessary for you to wait with me, sir. There is nothing you can possibly do for me that I cannot do for myself.”

He could not help but grin at the wide opening she had left him. “Oh, I think there may be a few things.”

The remark was lost on her and she fussed with the box she’d been holding, straightening it and holding it closer.

“What do you have in the box that you are protecting so fiercely, Miss O’Rourke?”

She glanced down at the package she was now crushing against her chest. “My wedding gown.”

“Ah. I wager it is a stunning creation.”

She emitted an unladylike snort. “Are you coming to the wedding, Mr. Devlin?”

He nodded.

“You must tell me what you think of it.”

“At the first opportunity.” He glanced over his shoulder and sighed. The maid, still a block away, was returning with an umbrella. One last try. “Are you certain I cannot take you home, Miss O’Rourke? I hate to leave you alone out here in the weather.”

“I am certain,” she confirmed.

He put his hat on and took a step back. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Oh, I had forgot! I owe you for the ribbons, Mr. Devlin. Here, if you will hold my box, I shall get the sum from my reticule.”

“Never mind, Miss O’Rourke. I shall collect it from your new husband tomorrow. In full.”

Devlin stared at the piece of paper Jack dropped on his desk. The address, written in scrawled numbers, was vaguely familiar. It was also close to the park where he’d left Lillian O’Rourke earlier today.

“You’re certain?”

“No doubt. It appears he is her brother-in-law. Logical for him to take them in, under the circumstances.”

“Logical, but damned inconvenient,” Devlin murmured. “Too bad. I have no quarrel with the Hunter brothers but this will certainly start one.”

“This? What? Is it not time you told me what you are up to, Farrell?”

“It is not. In fact, I think it will be a greater benefit to you if you haven’t any idea what is afoot.”

“Your game is afoot, that much is clear.” Jack sat back in his chair and rocked on the rear legs. “But it is the nature of the game that troubles me. I begin to regret having any involvement in this at all. The Hunters are not ones a sane man would wish to cross. You’ve said you do not have a grudge with Miss O’Rourke, and that she is merely a means to an end, but I have misgivings as to the way you intend to use her.”

So did Devlin, but he merely regarded Jack with an even expression. He could not afford to give anything more away. Not that Jack could stop him if he knew the whole plan, but Devlin had no stomach for a quarrel with no purpose. Quite simply, there was no way to turn him back now.

Jack was studying him and Devlin could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. He was quick and could put clues together faster than anyone Devlin had ever known, but pray he did not put this scheme together.

Yes, there would be adjustments he would have to make, and consequences to pay, but that was unavoidable. It was the greater risk of failure that troubled him. His original plan had been straightforward, clean and sure to succeed, but now it was fraught with possible disaster. If he failed…well, he’d lose his life. To target so powerful a family as Rutherford’s was foolhardy. He’d known that from the beginning.

Apparently tired of waiting for Devlin to tell him more, Jack finally rocked forward in his chair and stood. He headed toward the door, shaking his head. “I’d appreciate it if you never mention my name or my involvement with this, Dev.”

“Done.” But he had one last chore for Jack, and he knew he could persuade him. He reached into his waistcoat pocket and withdrew the scrap of paper that had dropped from Miss O’Rourke’s reticule. Her list of things to do and items to fetch. It would be enough.

Fricke was a dab hand at such things. “Take this to Fricke, will you? He will know what to do with it.”

Jack came back for the paper and pushed it in his pocket. “A forger? Deeper and deeper,” he said in mock despair before he closed the door behind him.

Devlin stood and went to his window to look down on the teeming Whitechapel street. Especially after dark it swarmed with men seeking strong drink and an easy mark, and women seeking the same. This was not a place for the timid, and he wondered how Miss O’Rourke would have fared here. Most likely she’d have hidden in corners and avoided the citizens. She was far too well-bred to even understand the misery in such places.

He remembered her as she’d been this afternoon, a bit bedraggled from the storm, smelling of starch and wet straw bonnet. Even that could not douse the fire she’d kindled in his groin. She’d been so completely lovely, so blissfully unaware of her appeal, that he’d been tempted to tell her. But she’d have run from him, and rightly so. His intentions were about as far from honorable as they could be.

He was still a bit bemused by the brush of their lips. He could not call it a kiss, at least none like he’d had before. Their lips had barely met, and yet he’d felt a surge of heat he hadn’t experienced since his first time at fifteen years old when he’d lain with one of the prostitutes who had been a friend of his mother. In the countless encounters and women since, he’d never found anything remotely as exciting.

And, curse the luck, she was Andrew Hunter’s sister-in-law. Hunter was a man of his word, and he respected that. In fact, Hunter had intervened to keep Devlin out of gaol once. And Devlin had repaid the debt only a month ago by helping Andrew stop the brotherhood of sacrificial killers his brother James was now seeking. If he recalled correctly, Miss O’Rourke’s sister was to have been the last sacrifice, but Hunter had arrived in time to foil their plans and disband the treacherous group.

What a quagmire of conflicting loyalties he’d fallen into. Honor his friendship? Be the gentleman to Miss O’Rourke? Or achieve the very thing he’d lived for since his mother’s death twenty years ago?

He experienced a quick flash of sympathy for the O’Rourkes. They deserved a respite. They deserved a bit of peace.

They deserved better than they were going to get.

Yes, Devlin was the proverbial ill wind for Miss Lillian O’Rourke, and within twelve hours, her life would be changed forever.