Regency Rumours (12 page)

‘They denied it everywhere they could, of course. But my brother is a schoolboy, my father a martyr to gout. Neither of them is going to be taking up a rapier in my defence! Besides, my hostess threw me out the next morning, so the lie is widely believed. There is nothing to be done except take refuge where I am trusted—here with old friends of my parents.’

CHAPTER NINE

G
ILES PACED DOWN
the length of the library to the other globe, the celestial one showing the heavens, and spun it viciously. ‘Something should be done.’ Hell’s teeth, he had called an innocent woman a foul name, he had accused her on hearsay evidence. He was having trouble getting past his own self-loathing for that, and for wanting to kiss her again. Kiss her…and more. That made him a rutting beast like Andrew White and he was not. Please God, he was not that.

‘Why is your old friend not calling out the man who betrayed his sister? Andrew White seems to be getting away scot-free,’ Isobel demanded. It was a reasonable question.

‘James is almost blind. He can see well enough to get around, but that is all. His sight was failing when we were at Harrow and it has deteriorated since.’

‘Poor man. I had no idea. I was aware that he did not come into society, of course,’ Isobel said, instantly compassionate. She was sweet when she was soft—
pitying for James, tender with the child. He wanted that softness, but all she would give him was the fire.

‘He is a scholar, a great mind. When we were children at school he held the bullies at bay because they were frightened of his rapier intelligence and his sharp tongue. He protected me with his wits when I was new, terrified and a victim because of my parentage. As I grew in size and confidence I defended him with my fists. Fortunately he can afford to keep secretaries and assistants so his studies are not affected by his sight. He is working on a new translation of the Greek myths.’

‘A true friendship,’ Isobel murmured, her head bent over the spinning globe, her long index finger tracing a route across continents. Was she imagining an escape from all this? ‘Will you help me? Tell Lord James you believe me? If he can convince his parents and Penelope, then it might do some good.’ She sounded doubtful that he would support her, even now.

‘Of course.’
Of course. But that is not enough
.
You are mine. I saved your life so you are mine
. The anger boiling inside him became focused. He would tell James, of course, and Penelope, whom he had known since she was six, but there must be justice for Isobel. White and the other two had got off from this almost unscathed.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Isobel put back her shoulders and straighten her back as if bracing herself to carry this burden of disgrace. Alone, she believed. But she was not alone any more. The fierce sense of possessiveness was unsettling, but he had never saved someone’s life before—perhaps that accounted for the way he felt about Isobel now.

‘You are very brave,’ he said and her chin came up with a defiance that tugged at his heart.

‘I refuse to go into hiding because I am the victim of an injustice, so what else can I do but carry on? Besides, if I was truly courageous I would be in London now, brazening it out, would I not?’ Isobel threw at him.

‘I think you are too much of a lady to be brazen about anything. And what well-bred virgin would not shy away from such behaviour?’ Now, what had he said to make her blush so? ‘It takes a wicked widow like my mother to carry off that kind of thing.’

She gave herself a little shake. ‘There is nothing to be done about the situation beyond you telling your friend the truth. Look, the sun is shining—I think I will ride after all.’

‘Then I hope the weather holds for you. I find I must go to London this morning.’ There
was
more he could do and it seemed that Isobel had no one else to do it for her. Besides, Giles thought, the fierce possessiveness
burning hot inside him, this would be both his right and a pleasure. The experience of defending a lady was not new, but it was an ironic twist that this time he would be on the side of innocence instead of mitigating his mother’s latest outrages.

‘It is not a problem with your business that takes you there, I see,’ she said, watching him with narrowed eyes. ‘That was the smile of a man who positively relishes what is in front of him.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Giles agreed. ‘I am looking forward to it, although it is an unexpected development.’ It was easy to resist the temptation to tell her what he was intending to do. This could all be covered by his willingness to stand up for his friends the Albrights. Isobel’s name need not come into it.

‘How mysterious! Or perhaps you are simply missing your mistress.’

‘No.’ He made himself smile at the jibe. ‘It is a secret, but I will tell you when I get back.’ He would have to do that, for she needed to know that the insult and the calumny had been answered. Giles lifted a hand to touch her cheek, pale and sweetly curved, but she flinched away as though she feared even that caress.

He wanted to protect her, needed to possess her. It seemed his wants might be satisfied, but never his
needs. Nor should they be, of course, he thought with a stab of regret.

Behind them the library doors opened and he let his hand fall away as Isobel pretended a renewed interest in the globe.

‘Ah! There you are, Harker.’

‘My lord?’

‘Excuse me, Isobel my dear—a matter of urgent business.’

‘But of course. I hope your journey to London is uneventful, Mr Harker.’ Isobel smiled politely and turned from him. ‘I will see if they can spare me a groom—the morning is too fine to waste the opportunity of a ride.’

In the silence that followed the swish of her skirts through the door the earl strode across the room and half sat on the edge of the big desk.

‘London? I need you here, Harker. My steward tells me that my banker is due the day after tomorrow to discuss how the financial affairs of the estate will be handled in my absence in Ireland. I need to confirm the figures Soane left with me for the further building work and to make a final decision on the Hill House and the other matters you were looking into for me. I must have the funds and authorities in place to allow matters to proceed without my agents
having to endlessly send to Dublin for my agreement on every detail.’

‘I will be back by then, my lord.’ He could be in London by that night, have a day to do what he had to do and a day at most to travel back. ‘I assure you of it.’

‘You are certain? You will forgive me if I press you, but it would be extremely inconvenient if this were delayed and Delapoole had to return to town.’

‘My word upon it, my lord.’

‘Excellent. I will let you get on then. Safe journey, Harker.’

Giles walked up the steps into Brookes’s, one hand unobtrusively under Lord James Albright’s elbow. It was all the guidance his friend needed, other than a murmured word now and again to help him orientate himself in the blurred world he refused to allow to defeat him.

‘Good evening, my lord, Mr Harker.’ The porter came forwards for their hats and canes.

‘Evening, Hitchin. Lord Andrew White in?’

‘Yes, my lord. He is in the library with Mr Wrenne and Lord Halton, I believe.’

‘Excellent,’ James remarked as they made their way down the corridor. ‘Three birds with one stone.
I’ve never felt so helpless before—I wish I could get my hands on that swine White myself.’

‘I’ll hold him for you,’ Giles offered with a grin as he opened the library door. The room was empty except for the three men lounging in deep leather armchairs by the fireside. They looked round as the friends entered and Giles saw the mixture of wariness and defiance on White’s face when he realised who his companion was.

He guided James’s hand to rest on the back of a chair, then walked across. The three got to their feet to face him. ‘Harker. Do they let you in here? I thought this was a club for gentlemen.’

‘Quite patently it is not,’ Giles countered. ‘They appear to have admitted the three of you and you are lying scum who think nothing of assaulting a lady and blackening her reputation. Or perhaps you crawled in here through the sewers like rats?’

‘Wrenne, be so kind as to pull the bell, will you?’ White drawled, but Giles could see the wariness in his eyes. The beginning of fear. ‘Get a porter to throw out this bastard.’

‘And what about me?’ James asked. ‘Do you expect the porters to expel two club members on no grounds whatsoever?’

‘This is damned awkward, Albright.’ White’s bluff tone was at odds with the look of dislike he
shot at James. ‘Your sister took exception to a situation that was completely misinterpreted, made a scene, accused me of lord knows what, broke off the engagement—If I had been permitted to come and explain at the time, this could all have been put behind us.’

‘You could hardly blame Penelope for her reaction,’ Albright said with dangerous calm. ‘You were found in another woman’s bedchamber.’

‘All a bit of fun that got out of hand. If Penelope had been a bit more sophisticated about it, we would still be betrothed.’

‘And what a pity that would be,’ James remarked. ‘This is bad enough, but at least she discovered that you were a philandering cheat before she was irretrievably tied to you.’

‘The devil!’ White strode across the room until he stood immediately in front of James. Giles shifted his position so he could watch the other two—he did not want a brawl in the club, but if James lost hold of the threads of his temper, that is what they might well have. ‘No one calls me a cheat! If you weren’t as blind as a bat I would call you out for that, Albright.’

‘And I would refuse your challenge, White. My grievance predates yours. You will apologise both to my sister and to the lady who you so grievously offended that night, or give me satisfaction.’

‘I will do no such thing,’ White blustered. ‘And meet
you?
You couldn’t hit a barn door with a blunderbuss.’

‘I fear you are correct,’ James said with such politeness that Giles felt his mouth twitch in amusement. ‘However, as in all cases where a duellist cannot fight because of infirmity, my second will take my place.’

‘And who is that?’ White swung round as Giles cleared his throat. ‘You? I’ll not meet a bastard on the field of honour.’

‘No?’ Giles drawled. ‘Then it will be all around town within the day that you and your friends are cowards who will not fight, even when the odds are three to one. My friend did not make it clear, perhaps, that the challenge includes all of you. The choice of weapons is, of course, yours, as is the order in which you meet me. We stay at Grillon’s tonight and I expect word from you as to place, time and weapons by nine tomorrow morning. I have no time to waste on you—the matter will be concluded by dawn the day after tomorrow.’

He took James’s arm and guided him out of the door, closing it on an explosion of wrath. ‘That went well, I think.’ The picture of Isobel struggling in that lout’s grip while he pawed at her was still painfully vivid in his imagination, but at least the gut-clenching anger had been replaced with the satisfying anticipation
of revenge for her. He hoped they would choose rapiers; he would enjoy playing with them, making it last.

‘Exceedingly well. I might not be able to see much, but I could tell that rat’s face changed colour. Where shall we dine tonight?’

‘We are being followed.’ Giles took a firmer grip on James’s arm. In the darkness with only occasional pools of light, or the wind-tossed flames of the torches carried by passing link-boys, his friend was completely blind.

‘Who? How many?’

‘Five, I think.’ Giles turned a corner, aiming for King Street and the bright lights around the entrance to Almack’s. They had been eating in a steak house in one of the back streets that criss-crossed the St James’s area. Now they were only yards from some of the most exclusive clubs, gracious houses and the royal palace, but surrounded by brothels, drinking dens and gambling hells. It was not an area to fight in—not with a blind man at his side.

‘As to who it is, I suspect our three friends and a pair of bully boys they’ve picked up.’ He lengthened his stride. ‘We rattled them, it seems. We’re almost to King Street, James. If anything happens you’ll be able to make out the lights if you just keep
going down the slope and you’ll be on the doorstep of Almack’s.’

‘And leave you? Be damned to that,’ James said hotly.

‘Go for help—hell, too late, here they come.’

There was a rush of feet behind them. Giles swung round, pulled the slim blade from the cane he carried and pushed James behind him as he let his sword arm fall to his side. The two big men, porters by the look of them, skidded to a halt on the cobbles, their shadowed faces blank and brutal.

Beyond three figures lurked, too wary to approach. Giles stepped back as though in alarm, flailed wildly with the cane and the big men laughed and rushed him. The rapier took the nearest through the shoulder, then was wrenched from Giles’s hand as the man fell against his companion. As the second man fended off the slumped body Giles jabbed him in the solar plexus with the cane, kneed him in the groin as he folded up, then fetched him a sharp blow behind the ear as he went down.

‘Stay behind,’ he said sharply to James as his friend moved up to his side. The three men who had held back rushed them, so fast that he was only just aware as they reached him that they were masked. His fist hit cloth, but there was a satisfying crunch and a screech of pain as the man—White, he suspected—
fell back. Then one of the others had him in a bear hug from behind and the other began to hit him.

Through the blows and the anger he kept control, somehow, and began to fend off the man in front of him with lashing feet and head butts when he got close enough. Dimly he was aware of the sound of breaking glass and James’s voice, then he wrenched free and could use his fists.

James shouted again, there was a thud and swearing, a fast-moving shadow and pain in his face, sharp and overwhelming. Giles’s fist connected with the chin of the man in front of him and he saw him fall. As he went down the alleyway was suddenly full of figures and the flare of light.