How To Build The Perfect Rake (23 page)

‘He is old,’ Mr. Grayson had said, when his
wife had remonstrated about having a chronically drunk footman man
in their employ, ‘and will not find another position. Besides, he
has been at Pennimore for fifty years. That’s almost as long as
me.’

The footman had stayed, of course, but
Olympia had taken to watching him and had been astonished by two
things. He had an almost limitless capacity for bottled ale and he
disguised the fact by standing with rigid formality, never
twitching, never shifting. For some reason, Lord Howe had struck
her in much the same way and the impression was merely enhanced by
the whiff of brandy that drifted her way.

‘I do not think I am ready for a sympathetic
ear, just yet. But thank you, just the same. I must find my
brother.’

‘Well if I cannot listen,
I can at least direct,’ Lowe had declared regretfully, ‘for I saw
Mr. Grayson on the terrace not ten minutes ago. He was in
conversation with a
very
pretty lady.’

Olympia had sighed, accepting that this was
undoubtedly the case. Was there ever a time when Jasper wasn’t
involved with some female or other? ‘How irksome.’

‘Shall I fetch him for you?’

Olympia had hesitated, considering this.
Actually, she did not want to return to the party. She would have
to find her aunt, make her excuses… all of the things required of a
diligent guest.

‘Or,’ Howe had suggested softly, ‘I could
just lead you to him.’

She had thought about this
for a moment but it seemed like an excellent solution. She and
Jasper could slip away and there would be no danger of running into
Luc again. She had
definitely
not wanted to run into Luc again.

As it turned out, her mother had the rights
of it when she had told her only daughter some years before, than
one never disappeared from a party with a man of doubtful
character. Olympia was fairly sure that Mama had been warning her
about a different set of circumstances, but clearly the same rule
applied. More so, if one got right down to it. Once on the terrace,
an area which was obviously not being used for the evening’s
entertainment as it was ill lit and deserted, Howe had made a great
pretence of looking around.

‘I suppose he could have gone down into the
garden.’

Really, she reflected now, his lordship had
done very well with the limited resources at his disposal. Any half
decent kidnapping should have involved a gag, a bag and a waiting
coach. He had possessed none of these. Instead he had worked
without a script, assuring Olympia that he would just take a quick
look, if she would be so kind as to wait where she was. So she had
waited, while he had tripped ever so lightly down the steps,
disappearing into the shadows. He was gone for so long that she had
been moved to call out to him.

‘Lord Howe? Did you find him?’ There had
been no reply. Frowning, Olympia had glanced behind her. Jasper had
in all likelihood returned to the party and was probably looking
for her by now. She would go back inside. ‘Lord Howe, I am going to
go in now. But thank you for your help.’

‘Miss Grayson!’ Lord Howe’s voice had come
from somewhere among the shadows of the garden.

‘Lord Howe?’

‘I have twisted my ankle. I’m afraid I
cannot get a purchase to pull myself up.’

‘Oh!’ She had stared down into the
well-ordered forest of trees. ‘Shall I get help?’

‘That would be excellent. Unless… do you
think it will look odd if people discover the two of us out here?
Alone?’

Odd… a belated sense of propriety had jolted
through her. Of course people would find it odd! She would think it
odd herself, if she heard of a young girl being found in the
company of a well-known rake. ‘Drat it!’ she had muttered, heading
for the steps leading down to the path below. Then, more loudly.
‘I’m coming!’

Really, Olympia reflected
as she lay prone on the divan she had woken on, it was
extraordinary how much a man could achieve in only a small amount
of time. When Howe had gone of ‘searching’ for her brother, he must
have secured a coach for here she was. She did not know how he had
done it. When she had found him prone on the grass she had reached
a hand down to help him and he had flowed rather too readily to his
feet. The next thing she’d known, he had taken her around the waist
and she was flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She
touched the lump that was throbbing gently on the side of her head.
She could not even blame Howe for
that
, for she had thrashed about so
much she had set him wobbling and somehow, she’d given herself a
decent crack on the skull, probably on the brick surrounding the
gate they were passing through at the time. Her effort to escape
had certainly been a benefit to Lord Howe for she had practically
rendered herself insensible. The journey had been a confused blur
as she had drifted in and out of consciousness.

‘What an idiot I am!’

Of course, there could only be one reason
why she had ended up where she was. Howe, upon hearing that she was
returning home, had decided to try a more forceful approach in his
quest for a wife. When all else failed, there was always the tried
and true method of marriage. Ruin the female one wished to wed and
the deal was done.

‘No,’ Olympia said with grim determination,
having thought this over. ‘I don’t think so.’

She was not about to become Lord Howe’s
wife. She was not about to be ruined. She had experienced a
decidedly frightful day but it was not going to end with her being
sullied at the hands of a rake. Apart from anything else, Howe
would never survive his first week of wedded bliss. Quite apart
from her father, her four brothers would take turns in killing
him.

It was a relief to find herself alone and
she used the opportunity to take stock. Her head certainly had a
lump on it and was throbbing with every beat of her heart but that
aside, she seemed physically unscathed.

Sitting up carefully, she observed the room
swim for a moment, before righting itself. She was in a rather
cramped sitting room whose furnishings seemed to suggest an earlier
era. A small branch of candles burned at the end of the sofa. For a
few moments, Olympia just sat there, looking around her. Where was
Lord Howe? And, more to the point, what was to prevent her from
simply walking out?

As if conjured by such thoughts, the door
opened and Howe entered, carrying a bottle and two glasses. He
paused at the sight of her. ‘Oh, excellent. You have rejoined
me.’

‘My lord,’ she said without preamble, ‘why
am I here?’

He shut the door and came to place the
bottle and glasses carefully on a table. ‘Wine,’ he explained
unnecessarily. ‘I was hoping the cellar here still had something to
offer. Not a great deal, I’m afraid but I managed to find us some
tolerable claret.’

‘I don’t want any wine.’

He looked at her for a moment, dark eyes
fathomless in the soft light, then shrugged. ‘All the more for me,
then.’

Not, Olympia judged, that he needed a great
deal more. He was three sheets to the wind, there was no doubt
about it. The glassy look in his eyes gave it away. ‘My head
hurts.’

‘Does it? Yes, I daresay it would. You
caught it quite a crack on that wall. Many thanks for that,
incidentally,’ he added, taking a chair opposite, ‘I was finding it
hard to hold on to you.’

‘You had a carriage waiting.’

‘Not my own carriage. I paid one of the
waiting drivers a pound for his services. And to not ask any silly
questions.’

‘And where are we?’

‘My great aunt’s house. Not that she is
still with us. The old girl passed away several years ago, leaving
me all she possessed. Which was little enough, in truth. A small
place in the wilds of Hounslow and a great deal of ugly furniture.
But then, I have never had much luck with relatives.’

‘I have,’ Olympia told him quietly, ‘as you
will no doubt discover. I have four very excitable brothers.’

He frowned at this. ‘Yes, I did consider
that. I’ve met Jasper ever so briefly and was reluctantly impressed
by his air of manly competence. Even your young Lucien gave me
pause.’

‘He is not
my
Lucien.’ She said,
with some feeling, recalling the evenings that had taken place
earlier in the evening along with her sense of grievance. It was so
strong it even overshadowed her current predicament.
How could have been so stupid as to offer for
Carisse?

‘Don’t you be too sure about that. But it
does not matter.’ Leaning forward, he uncorked the bottle and
poured a generous quantity into a glass. ‘By the time we return,
marriage will be your only option,’ he gave her a smile. ‘I promise
to be, if not an admirably husband, at least an interesting
one.’

‘I am not marrying you.’

‘Of course you are. You will have no
choice.’

‘If you return me now, nobody need be any
the wiser. I will certainly not say anything.’

‘Why would I do that? I went to a
considerable amount of trouble to get you here.’

‘How long have I been here?’

‘We’ve really only just arrived. I was
finding refreshments for us.’ He waved his glass to illustrate the
fact.

‘So I’ve been missing for no more than an
hour or two? If I were to return home now I could easily make up
some excuse.’

‘And how would you get home?’ his lordship
enquired. ‘I sent the carriage back.’

‘How are you planning on getting back
tomorrow?’ Olympia demanded.

‘I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Something
will come up.’

The breath hiss between Olympia’s teeth. The
fact that she seemed to be stranded in an unknown house, in an
unknown area with no means of transport was an unwelcome piece of
news. She could hardly go knocking on neighboring doors, dressed as
she was. Presumably Lord Howe’s aunt had been a gentlewoman
(although considering his behavior in the past few hours there was
no guarantee of that!) so she would have resided in a genteel
neighborhood. And young females did not wander around in the middle
of the night in such neighborhoods, not if they wished their
reputations to remain intact.

The thought of her
reputation gave her a moment’s unease. She could easily find
herself ruined by this madness.
But I
won’t marry a man I barely know and would probably dislike if I did
know him better.
For her initial
impression that he might be rather a fun acquaintance had suffered
a severe reversal. If she never saw the man again it would suit her
perfectly well.

‘I would like a glass of water, if I
may.’

‘Really? Water? People drink that?’

She gave him a look. ‘They do if there is no
ratafia or lemonade to be had and I’m assuming you have neither of
those things on hand.’

‘In the same class as
water, I’m afraid. No call for it.’ He waved his glass
suggestively. ‘It really is very
good
claret.’

‘I have suffered a blow to the head.
Drinking alcohol would be foolish.’

He looked mildly intrigued. ‘I never knew
that.’

‘Oh yes,’ Olympia said mendaciously, for she
had no idea if this was the case, ‘I can assure you it is so. May I
have some water?’

He thought about it for a moment. It seemed
to take a little work, which only emphasized how very drunk he was
but after a time he nodded. ‘I will check the kitchen.’

‘I would be most grateful.’

‘How grateful?’ he asked, leering at her.
‘You’re a vastly pretty little thing, Miss Grayson. I’m a lucky
man.’

The unease returned, this time with a deal
more force. Up until now she had not felt threatened because he had
been behaving with a certain amount of circumspection. But that
suggestive smirk had reminded her just who she was dealing with.
Howe had not come by his reputation for nothing. He was a seducer
of innocents.

Seducer is not sullier, she reminded herself
firmly, determined not to panic. She could manage Howe. At least,
she thought she could. ‘Water, if you please.’ She was pleased at
how steady her voice sounded. ‘And perhaps a bowl? I’m afraid I
feel rather sick.’

That stopped all thoughts
of seduction in their tracks! She watched the lascivious gleam
fade, to be replaced by one of mild horror. ‘You… sick?’
Suddenly
he
appeared to be the one who was nervous.

‘It must be the bump on the head. I
definitely need a bowl.’

He set his glass down abruptly and lurched,
rather than rose, to his feet. ‘Please do not do anything hasty. I
am not comfortable with… with…’

‘Bodily effluence?’

He blanched, looking rather unwell himself.
‘I will get a bowl!’

‘And some water.’

‘Just contain yourself.’

‘I will try.’ He gave her
an agonized look, then hurried out of the room. Olympia smiled,
suddenly more cheerful. Apparently Lord Howe had an aversion to
illness so it was up to her to be very ill. Or, better yet, to make
the most of his absence. She rose to her feet, testing her legs
which felt remarkably solid, considering what she had been through.
She had no idea how long it would take his lordship to secure a
bowl and water but perhaps it would be wisest to be gone by the
time he returned. She would find a way back to London somehow, she
just needed a little ingenuity – and a great deal of luck. It was
possibly, of course, that Lord Howe would pursue her but he
was
very
drunk.
Even if he did, eluding him in the darkness should not be a
problem.

Shaking out her crumpled skirts, she headed
for the door, but paused when she heard footsteps returning.
Instinctively, she stepped to one side, moving behind the door and
when it sounded as if he were on the threshold, gave it a mighty
shove with her shoulder. There was a thump and a clatter and the
sound of something falling, closely followed by Lord Howe cursing
vigorously. Olympia bit her lip, for she had acted precipitously
and now there was likely to be a fallen nobleman blocking her
way.