A Rogue of My Own (18 page)

R
EBECCA WASN’T THE LEAST
bit nervous when she arrived at Rupert’s house this time. Lilly had offered to go with her, but Rebecca didn’t want her mother to witness how sarcastic and insulting Rupert could be—or how she could stoop to the same level once he provoked her. She’d made the decision to go to Rupert herself. She might have made it in anger, but she was certain it was the right decision. It didn’t matter how much she loathed the idea, or how much Rupert was bound to object. Their baby had to come first.

Besides, her mother had fully agreed with her and had even put the original idea in her head when she’d warned, “Don’t let him get comfortable with this annulment idea when it isn’t going to happen.”

The same butler she’d dealt with before opened the door to her. Since her mother’s driver was already lifting down one of her smaller trunks from the coach, the man should have displayed at least a little surprise or curiosity, but he masked his feelings well.

“I’m Rebecca St. John and I’ve come to stay,” she explained. “So if you will send a footman out to help with my trunks, I would appreciate it. Please direct me to the marquis.”

It took the butler a moment to reply. His eyes even flared briefly. He probably felt he should have been warned of her arrival and rightly so—but no one in the house knew about it.

“The marquis is unavailable,” he replied inscrutably.

“Still sleeping at this hour?” she guessed.

“No, Lady Rebecca, he left quite early this morning. It was barely dawn. He took a small valise with him, so he may not return today. He did say as much.”

She certainly wasn’t expecting that news. She was ready for a blistering fight, and he wasn’t there to have it. “May I speak with his mother?”

“Of course, follow me.”

The butler didn’t go far, stopping at the door to the dining room to announce loftily, “Lady St. John has arrived, madam.”

Rebecca heard a testy tone, from inside the room. “Are you blind, Charles? I’m sitting right here.”

“The
new
Lady St. John,” he corrected.

Rebecca had a feeling Charles took some pleasure in being able to render the lady of the house speechless. But since he wouldn’t be able to answer any questions Julie St. John might direct to him, Rebecca stepped around him and into the room.

“I am the new lady in question, previously Rebecca Marshall of the Norford Marshalls. As it happens, my family home is just down the road from your brother’s estate, so you may know—”

“Lilly Marshall’s girl?” Julie cut in.

“Yes, and presently—your daughter-in-law.”

The older woman should have been bowled over, but Julie
St. John did no more than set down her fork to ask in a somewhat aggrieved tone, “Which one married you?”

“Your eldest. It was a brief ceremony performed at sea just last week.”

A big smile formed on her mother-in-law’s face, shocking Rebecca. “I must say, girl, you have succeeded where all others have failed. I commend you!”

“You aren’t angry?”

“Good God, no, I’m delighted. I even knew both of your parents. They were the best of friends as I’m sure you’ve been told, so it was no surprise to anyone when they married. I’d already left home by then, but I heard the earl built that manor house just for Lilly, since it was close to her family home. Thought that was rather romantic of him when my brother mentioned it on one of my visits home. Damned inconvenient to live most of your life in an entailed house and to lose it when your husband passes on. At least that didn’t happen to your mother.”

Rebecca barely managed to steel her expression at the older woman’s grumbling. She knew exactly what Julie was complaining about. She had assumed that Rupert was still living with his mother and had even mentioned it to Lilly this week.

“You have that backwards,” Lilly had told her. “Julie still lives with him. He gained all of the marquis’s properties along with the title when his father died.”

Rebecca didn’t miss that Julie had gone off on a different subject. Didn’t the woman want to know why Rupert hadn’t told her that he’d married?

Carefully Rebecca said, “I am pleased that you find me a suitable wife for your son, but I should warn you that he doesn’t feel the same way. I am not here at his invitation, I am barging in, as it were.”

“You two are fighting already?” Julie guessed. “Well
that
doesn’t bode well, but it explains why he failed to mention this monumental event to me. I still find it incredible. I fully expected both of my younger boys to marry long before Rue got around to it.”

“It’s more than just a fight, Lady Julie. Rupert intends to have our marriage annulled.”

The lady frowned. “I think I could have done without knowing
that
just yet. So I’m not going to get any grandchildren?”

“You are—at least one,” Rebecca said with a shy smile.

I
T DIDN’T TAKE LONG
for Rupert to realize how much easier it was for him to think about Rebecca in a logical manner when she wasn’t around to confound and provoke him. After returning her to Buckingham Palace and promptly going home himself, he barely had two days of respite before that speck of doubt Rebecca had planted in his mind began to grow and he had to acknowledge the life-changing consequences of her bearing his child.

How the deuce would they explain to people their decision to live apart in these early months if they had to stay married? But that would only be a problem if Rebecca really was enceinte, and that hadn’t been proved yet.

It took another few days for Rupert to start thinking about the baby as real rather than a product of Rebecca’s scheming. He even began to imagine what his baby would look like. That was a mistake. No sooner had he put a face to this child who probably didn’t even exist than he was beset with a powerful emotion he couldn’t quite describe, or shake off. Their child—no, it was his. Dammit, no, it really was
theirs
—if it was real.

He got good and foxed to try to stop thinking about the baby and Rebecca, but the notion that had got into his head didn’t go away. He was going to have to fetch Rebecca back to London. After all, he couldn’t trust her not to do something foolish. Did she even know what precautions to take? Did she realize that some things that were perfectly fine for her to do under normal circumstances could be a danger to an unborn baby?

Rupert simply packed a small valise in case he ran into bad weather along the way and rode straight to Norford to bring her home with him.

Their living in the same household wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it would be the only way he could monitor her activities to keep them appropriate for an expectant mother. They could come up with a simple reason to be staying in the same household that had nothing to do with marriage. Their mothers came from the same neighborhood, after all, and with November coming to an end in just a few days, the long winter Season was already upon them. Julie could let it be known that she was sponsoring Rebecca for the Season. It was as simple as that.

He rode hard all the way to Norford, surprising even himself at how quickly the distance could be traversed when he wasn’t making the journey with his mother in her slow, plodding coach. The anxiety he was experiencing about getting his unborn child under his protection in no way resembled any eagerness to see Rebecca again. At least he assured himself of that a half dozen times on that long ride. But the unexpected disappointment he felt when he didn’t find her at home was partly responsible for the anger he felt as he rode back to London.

He had told her to go home. Did she really think she could
still do as she pleased? She had deliberately defied him. Since she wasn’t really pregnant, she had obviously decided to keep her post at the palace. He’d be damned if he was going to go there to have it out with her, since that was an argument guaranteed to get loud and there were far too many eavesdroppers and gossips in the palace.

When he stepped through the front door of his house, he was too shocked at seeing her walk out of his parlor to react immediately. He stared at her hard. He was relieved that she was all right and no longer missing. But the anger he’d ridden home with hadn’t dissipated, and soon he was scowling at her. She didn’t exactly look cowed by his expression. Did her eyes reveal some anger of her own? Damn, she
did
look fetching in that lavender gown—her waist as thin as ever…

“Is there a
reason
why you are here?” he finally demanded.

With complete nonchalance she replied, “Well, I’ve brought my trunks. I do believe I’m moving in.”

“The hell you are!”

“Nice of you to welcome me in your usual boorish manner” was all she said to that.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. It made not a jot of difference that he’d just gone to Norford and back this morning to bring her here himself. That had been his idea.
Her
coming here on her own was her idea, and it made him suspicious.

“Don’t start your manipulations already,” he warned her. “Answer my question.”

“Why am I here? Shall we start with the obvious reason? Because I really am pregnant and once my pregnancy starts to show, I do not want to be in a position to have people ask me who my husband is and not believe me when I tell them that it’s you.”

“And the not-so-obvious answer?”

“Because you make me so furious that I spite myself to spite you!”

“You won’t force my hand just by showing up here uninvited, I promise you won’t. I admit to a small measure of doubt, but if you try to make this marriage a reality before the baby becomes a reality—”

“We
aren’t
rehashing this again. Your mother knows, my mother knows, and
that,
if you aren’t smart enough to figure it out, makes us married for real. I told you I didn’t want to marry you, but if you’ll recall,
you
insisted, so now
you
live with it. All I want is for my baby to be legitimate, and now it will be. So spread your lies that I took advantage of you if you must. How did you put it? That I seduced you? I don’t care at this point.”

With as much patience as he could muster where she was concerned, he asked, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I’m not lying. I haven’t lied to you since the night I told you I was looking for a scarf for Sarah.”

R
EBECCA WONDERED IF HER
emotions were always going to get so out of hand when she was around Rupert.

She walked away from him. There was just no talking to the man, and he made her so bloody furious she was once again saying things she’d rather not say. But it was his house! So walking away from him here meant he could follow her—and he did.

She didn’t know where her trunks had been taken. Too angry to find the butler to ask him and too angry not to look for them herself, she began opening doors upstairs. Normally, she would never do anything that rude, but nothing about her current emotions was normal, and Rupert was dogging her steps.

When her hand reached to open the next-to-last door in the long corridor, Rupert warned, “That’s…not…”

He didn’t finish. Standing behind her once she’d opened the door, he could see that she’d found her trunks stacked in the large room. She didn’t hesitate to enter.

Neither did he, and his tone was about as adamant as it could get when he said, “You are
not
staying in here.”

It was a wonderful room. Dark blue and burgundy blended well in the plush carpet. Light blue and pale cream in the wallpaper made the large paintings with their dark wood frames stand out nicely. The thickly cushioned upholstery on the cherrywood sofa and reading chair was light cream, such a stark contrast with the dark carpet. The low table between them was a piece of art itself, the legs of it were so intricately carved.

The drapes at several windows were yet another shade of dark blue, embroidered with silver threads. An easel stood by the largest window, the painting that was apparently being worked on turned toward the light so she couldn’t see what it was of. Several bookcases were so filled there wasn’t room for even one more book. Twin bureaus, larger than any others she’d ever seen, sat side by side and were likely custom-made. A white marble fireplace wide enough to easily heat such a large room took up a good part of one wall.

Two other doors were on one wall, possibly leading to a water closet and a wardrobe, or connecting to another bedroom in the style of some master suites.

The entire room was grandly elegant, and the large bed, thrust oddly into one corner of the room, prompted her guess “Your room?” She tried to keep her voice neutral as she added, “I quite agree, I won’t be staying in here. Charles must have presumed this was the logical place to put my trunks when I told him I am the new Lady St. John.”

“On a first-name basis with my servants already?”

She turned around to find him walking across the room to stand in front of the easel like a guard dog. As if she cared that
he painted or wanted to know what he’d find of interest to paint.

In reply to his question she said, “I merely heard your servant’s name, but, fine, henceforth I will call him
your
butler, just as I will call this
your
house, just as I will call that”—she stabbed a finger toward the corner—“
your
bloody odd bed.”

“What’s wrong with my bed?”

“No one situates a bed so that one can only get in or out of it on one side unless it’s a matter of not having enough room for it, which hasn’t been the case for
your
beds. All three of them now that I’ve had the misfortune to view have been shoved into corners.”

“You call that odd?”

Rebecca drew in her breath as he approached her. His expression had turned entirely too sensual, reminding her of the night they made love.

He must have been remembering the same thing, because he added, “I don’t recall your being bothered by the bed in my room in the palace. In fact, you hardly seemed to notice it that night because you were paying so much attention to me. Don’t you remember?”

How could she forget! But she wasn’t going to admit that. Her blush, however, probably admitted it for her, so she quickly moved away from him.

“Did you ever think to ask why the beds are arranged that way instead of making snide assumptions?” he said, causing her burning cheeks to get even hotter. “There is nothing wrong with this arrangement—in fact, there is a good reason for it.”

Now, thankfully, that he was no longer talking about their night of lovemaking, she was able to say, “Very well, I’ll bite. What is the reason?”

“It’s really none of your business, but since you’ve made an issue of it, I’m going to tell you. It’s an appalling shortcoming of mine that I toss about so much in my sleep that I used to fall out of bed occasionally. Of course, it never happens when I have a soft bedmate beside me, which tends to lure me in the direction of warmth even while I’m asleep. But since that isn’t usually the case here, to keep from waking the rest of the family when I hit the floor, I’ve found this a safer position for my bed.”

She would never have imagined such an answer or that he’d admit it. And he’d made her feel that she ought to apologize.

So she was amazed at herself when she said quite scathingly, “What, the housemaids aren’t pretty enough to tempt you?”

“Certainly, but mother frowns on that sort of cavorting in her house.”

“I thought this was your house?”

He shrugged. “So it is, but since I share it with my family, I still respect her wishes on the matter.”

Rebecca blushed again. Why couldn’t she have just apologized as she should have? But she still couldn’t bring herself to do so even now. She turned about to leave his room instead.

Without stopping, and in a completely dismissive tone, she said, “I’ll find
your
butler and have my trunks moved immediately.”

“Do you realize how far you have overstepped the bounds, Becca? I would suggest a more conciliatory attitude henceforth.”

She paused. “Or?”

“I will put you in here.”

She turned about to gauge the seriousness of that
statement. She caught a glint of mischief in his pale blue eyes, and something else. Was it desire—or anger? It had to be anger. And she wasn’t supposed to be furious when he’d accused her of all sorts of bad behavior she was innocent of?

“You know, I told you that night I went to your room that I was assisting your friend Nigel, at his request,” she reminded him. “You never bothered to confirm that, did you?”

“What’s your point?”

“I
never
would have gone to your room if he hadn’t assured me that you would act as a go-between for us.”

“Yes, I did speak to Nigel and he confirmed that he told you to use me as a go-between. But, Becca, we both know you had other opportunities to deliver your information. Instead you broke all the rules by entering my room, late at night, fully expecting to find me abed at that hour, and
that’s
what has put us in this intolerable situation. So there will be no blame-passing, Becca, when we both know exactly where the blame lies.”

She shook her head in frustration. “I’m sure it will come as no surprise to you that I disagree. I might have been naive, but I didn’t set out to seduce you! Please do us both a favor and don’t pull a leaf from my book by spiting yourself to spite me. This will be a hands-off marriage just as you described it—for the duration.”

“Actually, the way I described it was—a hands-off marriage
until
proof can be established. You don’t really think I’ll keep my hands off of you if we do end up having to remain married, do you? But don’t try to tempt me in the meantime. If that is your current plan, to move in here to seduce me again so you really will get pregnant, I warn you—no, I
promise
you—you will regret it.”

“And to think I used to liken you to an angel. I truly must have been out of my mind.”

She mumbled that to herself on the way out the door, too low for him to hear. She’d let anger push her into coming here. She’d let anger widen the breach between them. But it wasn’t anger filling her chest with pain just then. And it wasn’t anger that brought tears to her eyes.