Redeeming a Rake (22 page)

“I’ve no idea, but I wouldn’t be such an ass
as to assume the woman I love wouldn’t want to share my life. I’d
at least…” Geoffrey drew in a painful breath. “…I’d at least give
her an opportunity to choose.” Geoffrey stood up and put his hat
back on. “Are you free this evening?”

“I can be.”

“Come have dinner with us. If you can get up
the nerve to ask Sophia if she’d prefer a large wardrobe or the man
she loves I have a suspicion you’ll be overjoyed by her answer.”
Geoffrey felt a strange warm glow as he walked back out into the
sunlight. He took a deep breath and smiled to himself. The angel
would approve of what he was doing. Feeling in need of celebrating
he had his coachman drive him into town where he spent the next few
hours window shopping for his angel. It wasn’t until he walked by
Ackerman’s large windows displaying cartoons of the latest scandals
that he realised there was something he could send his angel. There
was one thing she wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Dinner proved to be a more cheerful meal.
Even the dowager Duchess smiled as she watched her daughter and
nephew blush in between courses. Geoffrey tried to concentrate on
his food, but it was impossible not to think about the only person
who smiled at him. As soon as his mother and sister and other
female guests stood to leave the room he rose and followed forcing
the other male guests to do likewise. There were a few black looks,
but he ignored them. He had high hopes his cousin would come up to
scratch, but the man couldn’t propose anything chained to the table
by custom and six bottles of port.

Geoffrey ignored his mother’s friends and
took his usual position at the large marble hearth where he stood
with his back to the room watching everyone’s reflection in the
mirror over the mantel. He watched Bamford bow to Sophia and
whisper something in her ear. With her hand tucked in the crook of
his arm they slowly walked towards the double doors at the end of
the room and disappeared from sight. Geoffrey was feeling almost at
peace as the footman stopped next to him with a silver tray.

“A letter has just arrived Your Grace.”
Geoffrey’s heart jumped into his throat as he turned and saw the
familiar handwriting. “Thank you Franklin.” Feeling hopeful,
Geoffrey handed the servant a golden guinea.

“Thank you Your Grace.”

Geoffrey left the drawing room and slowly
walked to his study where he closed the door. The letter was gently
placed on his desk where it remained unopened as the enamelled sun
clock from the Ancient House ticked away half an hour. He was still
sitting there with folded arms wondering what fate had in store
when there was a soft knock on the door. He reigned in the desire
to shout at the hand to go to the devil and forced himself to be
polite. “Come.” The door opened and closed behind his sister. He
watched her eyes flit from the pale blue walls over his collection
of ruby glass ornaments and five large bouquets of red streaked
yellow tulips.

“I didn’t know you liked flowers.”

“Even the Devil has his weaknesses.” Two
pairs of pale blue eyes finally met devoid of anger or hatred.

“Bamford’s proposed and I’ve accepted. He
wanted to come tell you himself, but I asked him not to. I have no
money so there’s no need for a contract. He said you called on him
today and encouraged him to give me a chance.” The beautiful woman
took a deep breath. “I apologise for this morning. I was…”

“We all say vile things when we’re hurting.”
Her eyes widened as she saw a human being instead of a monster. He
could see in her eyes that she’d never thought of The Devil’s
Corpse as someone who hurt.

“Thank you for speaking to Bamford.”

“You’re welcome.” He waited till she had her
hand on the door handle, “By the way, you might want to tell your
fiancé that his bride to be isn’t as poor as he thinks she is.
You’ll have five thousand in cash on the day you marry and five
thousand every year on your anniversary for the next nine years.
I’m also transferring ownership of Grandmother’s estate, the one
near Bamford’s castle, to you. It’s got a good roof and lots of
rooms with empty beds.”

Sophia Grayson stared at her brother in
disbelief. “Bamford doesn’t know? Fifty-thousand pounds?” Geoffrey
blinked in shock as his sister ran back to his side, threw her arms
around her neck and nearly choked him with gratitude. He smiled as
she kissed him on the cheek and ran from the room leaving him with
the feeling he’d been wrapped in soft ermine with a hot water
bottle on a cold frosty night. His smile faded as he looked down at
the unopened letter. Taking a deep breath he picked up his
letter-knife and broke the seal.

Your Grace,

I’ve loved you ever since I was twelve when
you told me you thought I was lovely and gave me a pale blue ribbon
so I could have my dinner. I always think of you when I smell
gammon. No one would tell me the name of the man with the ruby ring
so I called you my knight in pale blue velvet. I was smitten and I
didn’t even know what you looked like. I wish I was as innocent and
trusting as I was at twelve, I wouldn’t need to write this letter.
When I saw you at your mother’s ball standing in the doorway I
didn’t want to believe that my hero could be so repulsive, yet
there was something about you that filled my inner world with blue
skies. I may be your sunshine, but you’re my horizon. There may be
rain clouds over London today, but they will eventually pass and
the sunlight will return as day follows night.

Please don’t feel obligated to marry me. I
did nothing I wouldn’t do again. Your offer is tempting, but I
would be a fool if I thought I could resist your come hither smile
with your ring on my finger. You’re not a worm and you weren’t born
to be a selfish tyrant. There’s a loving heart beating under your
weary flesh if you can find your pulse. I’m selfish enough to hope
that you discover it in time to fall in love with me, but I’m too
realistic not to fear that I’m confusing my pleasant dream Geoffrey
with reality.

I’ve answered your questions on the second
sheet. If you need any further details do not hesitate to ask for
them. Of course I forgive you, but I daren’t yet trust you. We all
make mistakes, but I can not make the mistake of choosing to marry
a man who’d hurt me. I have to think of my son’s wellbeing and any
other child I bring into the world. I’m sorry if this hurts you. I
pray for you as I’ve always done.

Sincerely,

Tolerance

Geoffrey’s sinews tightened as anger
hardened his heart. He’d wanted a concrete promise that he’d see
her again. He wanted to be told that she’d give him another chance,
preferably within the week. He wanted an invitation to call on her
in person. He set down the letter and took a deep breath and
decided he wasn’t going to get angry and he wasn’t going to get
discouraged. He picked up the letter and read it again slowly. She
admitted that she loved him and they weren’t the words of a woman
who didn’t want to be in love. Geoffrey’s mind was suddenly
illuminated; all he had to do was become a man she could trust, but
how? He could barely remember the innocent boy who’d arrived in
London desperate for love. He tucked unpleasant memories away and
read the letter again. She’d called him her knight in pale blue
velvet in the dream garden as well; that was a strange coincidence.
He folded the letter and locked it away. He’d write her in the
morning when he’d be in a brighter frame of mind after spending
time with his dream angel.

The house seemed quiet even with all the
servants running about preparing for the night. He wandered down
stairs to the library and looked at the shelves. In the end he
settled in front of the fire with a glass of port. The smell of
leather and dust covered books was almost comforting as he stared
at the flames planning what he’d do the next day. There was someone
he needed to see, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. His thoughts drifted
back to his friend. He smiled as he wondered what sort of dreams
the angel had of him. Hopefully they made her wake up longing to be
held in his real arms. The clock struck twelve as he pulled himself
out of the chair; his stiff knees creaking all the way to his
bedroom. Was he too old for a young wife? His heart disagreed.

Geoffrey found his dream angel sitting on
the grass sunning her ankles, “What took you so long? I’ve been
waiting ages.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and
remained standing, “That’s the problem with falling in love with a
libertine; he’s bound to have many bad habits. There’s no need to
look heartbroken Sunshine. I was sitting in front of the fire, all
alone, thinking of you. Now my angel blushes.”

“Really Geoffrey, must you tease?”

“If it means I get to see you blush. Walk
with me. I want to ask you a few questions.”

She took his offered hand and stood with a
smile. “The demanding Duke has returned.” She tucked her hand
around the crook of his offered arm and leaned against him. “What
sort of questions?”

“I received your letter this evening. I know
this is just a dream and you’re not really real, but you seem to
know what my angel thinks. I wanted to ask you about the past. You
knew that she called me a knight in pale blue velvet…how odd is
that? What’s wrong Sunshine?”

Tolerance stared at him in disbelief. “You
repeated something in your letter from a dream as well. I found it
extremely peculiar.”

“What did I repeat?”

“The part where you said you’d been tempted
to offer for me as a child bride. I thought that so strange. How
could someone dream that and then read it in a letter? What if this
was real? What if we were really meeting in a dream garden? What
would you do?”

Geoffrey’s come-hither smile made his angel
blush again. “If this were real I’d tell you how I long to hear you
laughing in my arms. I’d tell you that I love you and that I wished
we’d wed last year.” Geoffrey reached out and caressed her cheek.
“Can you imagine how I’d have reacted on waking up to find I’d lost
four years and gained a wife?”

“No doubt you’d have used a few unseemly
words on finding yourself legally saddled with an ugly
stranger.”

“My head was throbbing. I felt beastly; I
really only thought you plain not ugly, but only because I hadn’t
yet seen you smile. That last night when I woke up and found you
next to my bed, you smiled at me and I swear it stole my heart and
there it is again; wrapping me in your invisible sunlight.”

“You’re the one with the blue silken web
Geoffrey Grayson. You kissed my hand once and my heart was ensnared
forever.”

“Good…come a little closer and let me
ensnare you some more.” Laughter filled the garden as he
demonstrated his web spinning skills by nibbling her ear.

“What if you lose your memory again? What
would you do if I married you and then one day you woke up to find
a plain wife in your bed and a nursery filled with children?”

Geoffrey’s held her tighter, “When you marry
me, if I ever convince you to trust me with your person, I’ll write
myself a letter and if I wake up and say, ‘Who the blazes are you?’
you can roll out of bed and fetch the letter. Hopefully I won’t say
anything too vile before I read my own handwriting instructing me
to ask you to smile at me.” Geoffrey tightened his arms around her
waist and lightly kissed her neck. “If you choose me I promise
you’ll never regret waking up in my arms.”

“How do I know you won’t hurt me?”

“Have I ever made you feel afraid for the
safety of your person?”

“No, but I know what you’re capable of.”

“The hell-spawn who entered your life and
won your trust; I’m the same man.”

“I’ve never thought you a hell-spawn
Geoffrey.”

“That’s because you’re an angel. If you were
a real woman you’d never have spoken to me let alone allowed me the
privilege of calling you friend. I know because I used to frighten
myself every time I looked in a mirror.”

Tolerance looked up at smiling eyes and
burst out laughing at his expression. “You’ve never frightened
me.”

“I rest my case. You should marry me as soon
as possible before heaven realises you’re missing.” Tolerance
blushed as the pale blue eyes filled with a heated expression she
knew too well. “May I kiss you? I promise my hands will avoid your
lovely curves, though I confess I may possess your lips longer than
is considered polite.” She offered no resistance to his triumphant
smile.

Two weeks later Tolerance woke up laughing
again. Her dream Geoffrey continued to surprise her. She lay there
savouring the moment he paused in the middle of a humorous story to
gently tuck a tulip behind her ear, the look in his eyes making her
limbs feel like shaped pats of butter. She stretched and rolled
over to find herself alone. Her son had settled in the Nursery
upstairs, there was a quiet in her room that felt unnatural. She
longed to hear someone breathing, snoring or whispering tender
words, but just because her dream Geoffrey was intent on
recapturing her heart by trying to change it didn’t mean the flesh
and blood version had any such intentions. It was a depressing
thought.

She still hadn’t heard a word back from the
man. She’d been scanning the papers since she’d left London, but
other than a respectful jaunt to the theatre with his family, a
mention that he’d been seen dancing with several respectable
widows, and the unlikely story that he’d paraded with his sister
and cousin Bamford around Hyde park in a barouche; there was not
even a whisper of ill-behaviour. The fact he’d been dancing with
wealthy widows made her feel ill, but there was nothing
unreasonable about it. He wasn’t engaged. He was free to court any
woman who took his fancy. She finished her morning chocolate and
threw the paper onto the bed with disgust. She wanted information,
not hearsay. She wanted to know what he was doing, thinking,
feeling. Grey clouds rumbled into her head as thunder and lightning
crashed into her heart. She had to prepare herself for the
inevitable. The thought made her want to scream, but she bit her
lip and took a deep breath instead and tried to persuade herself
that it would be for the best. Her heart ached as another flash of
lightning reminded her that Geoffrey marrying some other woman
would not be for the best.