[Cornick Nicola] The Last Rake in London(Bookos.org) (16 page)

And so Jack had been obliged to make small talk with the other guests, but Sally was very conscious of his gaze resting on her from time to time, dark and serious but without the edge of anger that she had become accustomed to seeing there since their terrible confrontation that morning.

‘Miss Bowes?’ Lady Ottoline’s tone was sharp, but with a betraying edge of indulgence. ‘It is all very well to stare at one’s own fiancé, but I would like an answer as well, if you please.’

‘I beg your pardon, my lady,’ Sally said, hastily dragging her gaze away from Jack. ‘Perhaps you recognise my name because you have heard that I own the Blue Parrot, which is a nightclub on the Strand in London?’

There was another silence whilst she waited for Lady Ottoline to explode with shock. Surely, this time, she had overstepped the mark. No respectable great-aunt could contemplate such an alliance for her nephew. But Lady Ottoline was made of sterner stuff. She pursed her lips and shook her head. There was a steely light in her eye now as though she had realised just what Sally was about and was determined to thwart her.

‘No, that wasn’t it,’ she said. Her dark eyes brightened. ‘Do you, though? How marvellous to own a nightclub! You must tell me all about it, Miss Bowes. I do admire a gel with a bit of spirit, having been one myself.’

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ Sally said, realising she had underestimated the opposition. ‘I am sure that you were.’

‘You were married to Jonathan Hayward, were you not?’ Lady Ottoline said abruptly. ‘He was a dreadful cad, a total rotter. My late brother always said that it made him feel quite nauseous to think of him.’

Sally laughed. She was starting to like Lady Ottoline rather a lot. ‘Thank you, my lady. He had much the same effect on me.’

‘We have much in common,’ Lady Ottoline said drily. ‘I suppose Jack thought I’d cut up rough if I knew all about your history?’ Her eyes gleamed with suppressed amusement. ‘Silly boy, just because I never married he must think I am as cosseted as a baby!’

‘I imagine he might have been a little wary of telling you,’ Sally said, smiling. She was enjoying this conversation a lot now. ‘After all, owning a nightclub is scarcely respectable, and nor is potential divorce.’

‘Well, who cares a fig about that?’ Lady Ottoline demanded. ‘Sometimes it is more fun to be scandalous. I remember my mama telling me that being respectable all the time was a dashed dull deal. She worked as a spy for the British government, you know, and eloped with her husband. She was quite a woman.’

‘I saw her picture at the Collection,’ Sally said. ‘She was stunningly beautiful.’ She smiled. ‘You were a very pretty child yourself, Lady Ottoline.’

Lady Ottoline gave a spontaneous chuckle. ‘Changed a bit since then, eh!’

‘Not so much, I imagine,’ Sally said, smiling.

Briefly Lady Ottoline’s beringed hand clasped Sally’s own. ‘I like you, Miss Bowes. I’m glad your experiences didn’t put you off men.’ She looked across at Jack. ‘Jack’s a good boy. You mustn’t listen to all the gossip about his past.’

‘He hasn’t told me much about that,’ Sally said truthfully.

‘Terrible scandal,’ Lady Ottoline said gruffly. ‘Ran off with a married woman when he was barely out of his teens. Robert banished him abroad, the fool. Not that I didn’t think Jack needed to grow up, but it was a terrible tragedy to cast him out like that. Broke his mother’s heart and Charlotte’s too.’

‘I am sorry for that,’ Sally said. ‘Charley is a lovely person.’

‘Well, she’s got him back now,’ Lady Ottoline said. She squeezed Sally’s hand. ‘You’ll be good for him, my dear. I can tell. And as I say, don’t listen to any gossip. He’ll tell you everything in his own good time.’

Sally doubted it. Whatever had happened between Jack and his mistress was part of the dark secrets that he kept locked inside. There was a lump in her throat as she though how little she and Jack deserved Lady Ottoline’s good opinion.

‘What will I tell her?’

Both Sally and Lady Ottoline jumped as Jack spoke from right beside them.

‘Shouldn’t go creeping up on deaf old ladies, nephew,’ Lady Ottoline said crossly, ‘or you’ll be enjoying my fortune before you know it.’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘Perhaps that’s the plan, eh! Scare me into my grave and take the money!’

‘I’d prefer to enjoy your company rather than your money, Aunt Otto,’ Jack said, and Lady Ottoline looked pleased, although she did not say anything.

‘I thought,’ Sally said, ‘that it was Mr Basset who was your heir, ma’am, not Jack?’ She smiled challengingly at him. ‘Surely he has enough money of his own?’

‘I’ve decided that I don’t want to leave my money to that silly widgeon Bertie Basset,’ Lady Ottoline said astringently. ‘My money—I can do as I please with it. He would only spend it on gambling and loose women.’

Jack caught Sally’s eye. A faint smile curled his firm mouth as though to remind her that Bertie had already done precisely that.

‘I’ve remembered!’ Lady Ottoline said triumphantly. ‘Knew I’d heard the Bowes name before. I heard your father speak once at the Sheldonian in Oxford. He was a fascinating speaker and a most talented architect.’ She glanced around. ‘I believe Gregory Holt was a pupil of his.’

‘He was.’ Sally could feel Jack’s gaze on her and was annoyed to feel herself blushing when she had nothing to blush about.

‘If you will excuse us, Aunt Otto,’ Jack said, ‘I wondered if I might take Sally for a short stroll on the terrace.’

Lady Ottoline smiled. ‘Oh, very well. I suppose you may steal Miss Bowes away now.’ She looked up at him. ‘Seems you have more sense than I gave you credit for, nephew. I like your fiancée. The only miracle is that she likes
you
.’

Sally avoided Jack’s gaze. He offered her his arm and she put her hand on it gingerly, as though it might burn her. She wished she were not so shockingly conscious of Jack’s physical presence. Her awareness of him always undermined her defences.

‘How the hell did you do that?’ Jack asked abruptly as they stepped through the door on to the darkened terrace. ‘She likes you more than she likes me!’

‘I answered her questions honestly,’ Sally said. She saw his look of patent disbelief and added, ‘That may surprise you, Mr Kestrel, given your opinion of me, but your great-aunt is a good judge of character by my estimation, and she liked me.’

She expected Jack to make some cutting remark, but he was silent; glancing at his face, she saw he looked pensive. They walked along the terrace to where the moat opened out into a broad lake fringed with reeds.

‘Gregory Holt warned me off a little while ago,’ Jack said, after a moment. ‘He told me that he was standing as your brother and if I hurt you he would kill me.’

Sally shot him a look of surprise. She was not sure whether she was annoyed or amused at Greg’s interference.

‘He should mind his own business,’ she said. ‘He knows I can look after myself.’

‘So I thought,’ Jack said. He paused. ‘He is in love with you,’ he added, and there was an odd tone in his voice.

‘Yes,’ Sally said after a moment. ‘I suppose he is.’

‘Has he asked you to marry him?’

‘Now
you
should mind your own business,’ Sally said.

Jack laughed and put a hand over hers where it rested on his arm. ‘It is my business. I am your fiancé.’

‘My
temporary
fiancé,’ Sally said. ‘Until tomorrow only.’

‘So my guess is that he proposed and you refused him,’ Jack said. ‘Why?’

‘Must you be so persistent?’ Sally let her breath out on a sigh. ‘I do not like you, Mr Kestrel, and I do not particularly wish to speak with you.’

‘Indulge me,’ Jack said. ‘I want to know.’

Sally freed herself and went to stand on the edge of the terrace, looking out over the darkened garden where the topiary shapes were silhouetted against the deep blue of the summer night sky. She was very conscious of Jack, still and waiting, behind her.

‘I refused him because it would not be fair to make so unequal a match,’ she said, after a moment.

‘In terms of wealth and status?’ Jack sounded incredulous. ‘But you are a baronet’s daughter.’

‘I was speaking in terms of affection,’ Sally said. ‘Not everything can be measured in pounds and pennies, Mr Kestrel.’

‘Not a philosophy I would expect to hear you supporting, Miss Bowes.’

‘Probably not,’ Sally said. She rubbed her fingers over the cool mossy stone of the terrace wall. ‘I care for Greg,’ she said. She wondered why she was even trying to explain to Jack Kestrel, who thought that her motivated by nothing but avarice. ‘I have known him a long time and he has never played me false. I owe it to him not to take his affection for me and use it badly or take advantage.’

Again she expected Jack to make some kind of cynical reply, but he was silent, and in the darkness she could not read his expression.

‘Whilst you are engaged to me,’ he said, after a moment, ‘you will have nothing to do with him.’

Sally shook her head. ‘You cannot tell me what to do, Mr Kestrel. We are not really betrothed and you have no claim on me.’

She saw Jack make a sharp movement, full of repressed anger, and she backed a step away from him. ‘If you value Holt as you say you do,’ he said, ‘it would wise to agree.’

‘In case you decide to challenge him?’

‘Quite.’

Sally tapped her fingers irritably on the balustrade. ‘You are both as bad as each other,’ she said. ‘I do not think that your aunt would appreciate your attempts to rid Stephen of his relatives.’

‘Probably not,’ Jack conceded. He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I noticed you attempting to persuade her not to cut Bertie out of her will in my favour. Thank you for that.’

‘I am sure that you have enough money,’ Sally said.

‘And Bertie does not—particularly if he is to keep your sister in the style you are hoping for.’

Sally shrugged. She might have known that he would interpret her intervention as an attempt to gain everything for Connie when all she was concerned about was that Lady Ottoline should not change her will on the basis of an engagement that was a sham.

‘Tomorrow,’ she said, ‘unless you have a better plan, we shall travel on to Gretna and then we shall see if it is too late to save your cousin from my sister.’

‘What was it that Aunt Otto said I would tell you about?’ Jack asked, as they started to walk along the terrace towards the lavender-scented beds of the parterre.

‘She said that I should not listen to any gossip about you,’ Sally said. She smiled. ‘I imagine she wished to reassure me, believing as she does that I am genuinely betrothed to you.’

‘And have you heard any gossip about me?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Sally said. ‘I have heard plenty relating to your elopement with Merle Jameson, but I do not require reassurance since I am only betrothed to you for the duration of this one night.’ She shivered in the breeze off the lake. No matter how much she professed not to care, she knew she was shamefully jealous of the other woman—the only one that Jack had ever loved.

‘Let’s go back inside,’ she said.

Jack smiled. ‘A moment,’ he said. ‘If this night is all we have, we had better make it worth every moment.’ He put a hand out and caught her wrist, drawing her closer to the warmth of his body. He smelled of cologne and fresh night air and the longing caught at the back of Sally’s throat and made it ache.

She put a hand against the crisp white of his shirtfront and held him off. ‘Mr Kestrel, it may have escaped your notice, but, as I said, I do not like you very much. Nor do you care for me. Only a man with supreme arrogance would assume that I would fall into his arms again after what has happened between us.’

Jack put up a hand and brushed the strands of hair back from her face. His touch made her skin tingle. She turned her head aside in an attempt to deny the way he made her feel.

‘In a moment,’ he said, ‘we are going to go back through those doors into the drawing room. In order to persuade everyone that we are indeed betrothed, you must look like someone who has been thoroughly kissed in the moonlight, Miss Bowes, rather than someone indignant after an acrimonious discussion.’

Panic caught at Sally’s heart. If he kissed her, she was not sure that she could resist the feelings that coursed through her. Once again she wondered, helplessly, how it was possible to dislike a man so much and yet hunger for his touch. It felt like a betrayal of her principles and yet she wanted him.

‘I could pretend—’ she started to say, but Jack slid a hand into her hair and turned her face up to his.

‘The reality,’ he said, as he leaned down very slowly to kiss her, ‘is far, far better than the pretence.’

It was not like his kisses earlier, when he had been asserting his possession and his mastery over her. Now he courted a response from her, the kiss gentle and persuasive, teasing her, tempting her to open her lips beneath his and return the kiss. Sally relaxed, feeling the warmth in her veins turn her body soft and willing. It was so seductive that she let her hands slide over Jack’s shoulders, drew him closer to her and kissed him back. Immediately Jack slid his arms about her, deepened the kiss, and the feeling flared between them like wildfire. They were both breathing hard when he let her go.

‘Jack…’ Charley’s voice floated across the terrace to them ‘…Aunt Otto says that you have been out there quite long enough and that Sally promised to play bezique with her.’

Jack swore under his breath. ‘It’s like having a nursemaid again. You had best go in and humour her.’

‘Gladly,’ Sally said, smoothing her gown. ‘I enjoy her company very much.’ She took a deep breath to steady herself. Her hands were still trembling slightly from the residual excitement tingling in her blood.

‘Try not to take too much money off her,’ Jack said. ‘I know you will be tempted to fleece her but I will make up any shortfall.’

His words touched Sally on the raw. It seemed that every time she permitted herself to forget he thought her a money-grabbing charlatan, he would remind her.

‘I’ll take her for every penny I can,’ she said recklessly, seared by his scorn. ‘What else would you expect from me, Mr Kestrel?’