Silk and Shadows (13 page)

After a brief, intense period of thought, she gave a wry smile. Charles's protectiveness was irritating and unnecessary, but it was well-intentioned. And this marriage meant so much to her father; she remembered how earnest the duke had been when he urged her to accept Weldon's proposal.

Concerned by her long silence, her betrothed squeezed her hand. "Sara? Please say that you forgive me for my temper."

"There is nothing to forgive, for I know you spoke from concern. But in the future, remember that I am quite capable of dealing with male impertinence." That kiss had been a result not of Peregrine's impropriety, but her own. It would not happen again. "But, Charles, perhaps we should discuss what we will expect of each other when we are married."

He released her hand. "What do you mean?"

Sara paused to collect her thoughts. "I'm not a young girl—I have been mistress in my father's house for years now, and am used to some measure of independence. I need room to breathe. If you cannot accept that in me, you might be happier with a more conformable wife." When he didn't answer immediately, she added, "If that is your choice, I will release you from our betrothal. I don't want you ever to regret having chosen me."

"Your sense of honor does you credit, Sara," he replied, his voice rich and soothing. "You are exactly what I want in a wife, for I value your maturity and experience. But while I am willing to grant you considerable independence, surely you admit that in some things a woman must accept her husband's guidance? It is a man's duty to protect his wife from the sordid side of life."

Sara was not sure that she agreed, but his moderate tone calmed the doubts his spurt of anger had raised. She had made too much of what was a brief spat between two tired people. As the carriage drew to a halt in front of Haddonfield House, she said, "Then it seems we understand each other—if you will forgive my independence, then I will forgive your temper.''

"Excellent." He helped her from the carriage, then escorted her up the wide granite steps, holding her arm solicitously.

To Sara's surprise, as they waited for a servant to admit her, Charles pulled her close and kissed her. This was not like the rather messy embrace he had given her on their betrothal. It was more like the light kiss Peregrine had given her on the balcony. Yet she experienced nothing like the reaction she had felt then. Indeed, she felt nothing at all.

As his carriage drove away from Haddonfield House, Weldon's trembling hands clenched and unclenched, mute testimony to his fury. It was true that Lady Sara St. James was exactly what he wanted in a wife. Her enormous dowry would be very useful and, while her appearance was rather subdued, she had a refined beauty that would do him credit. Her cool, passionless nature aroused him, and he was generously prepared to overlook the fact that she was crippled.

Most important of all was her birth and breeding, which would help him attain the rank he had desired for so long, the rank denied him because he was a younger son. But how
dare
she defy her future husband! He was appalled by the willfulness she had shown tonight. It was not at all what he expected of a lady. He must appease her until they were wed, but then she would learn the folly of opposing him. A gentleman's wife was to be cherished and protected;in return, she must be obedient to his will, in all things. And Lady Sara would be, very soon.

Ironic that their disagreement had been over a filthy, immoral foreigner. He knew better than to think that a lady of Sara's refinement would behave improperly with a man who was little better than a savage, a man who had boldly requested a tour of the London flesh-pots. On that tour, he had shown his baseness. An Englishman knew how to separate the sacredness of the marital relation from the profane lust one felt for prostitutes, but the prince—if indeed he was a prince-had proved that he had no such understanding. God help the wife of a beast like him, for she would be used like a whore.

Tonight had confirmed Weldon's belief that Lord Ross Carlisle was a bad influence on Lady Sara. It was he who had asked his cousin to befriend the Kafir, and doubtless he encouraged her in other immodest behavior. After the marriage, the intimacy between the cousins must be severed. It would be wrong to cut the connection entirely, for Lord Ross was the son of a duke, but it would be made clear that his lordship was not welcome in the Weldon house. Lady Sara would obey her husband in that, as in all other things.

Weldon took out his handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his face. Knowing that he would not sleep tonight unless he found release, he rapped on the roof of the carriage to get his driver's attention, then gave orders for a new destination.

The carriage turned toward Soho, to Mrs. Cambridge's flagellation establishment. She had a brother and sister there, twins, both of them very pretty. He would punish them for Lady Sara's sins. Weldon smiled into the darkness. It would be a most satisfying end to the evening.

Rescuing Jenny Miller from the whorehouse turned out to be a simple business. After leaving the ball, Peregrine had returned to his hotel and changed from formal evening wear to something equally dark but more anonymous.

Earlier in the day, Peregrine and his servant, Kuram, had made a discreet scouting expedition around Mrs. Kent's brothel so that no time would be wasted in finding the correct place. Kuram had also arranged to hire a hackney for the night. The vehicle was like a thousand other London carriages, and it would take a discerning eye to notice that the dusty horse was much better quality than would usually be found at such work.

Peregrine let Kuram drive while he himself rode inside the hackney, thinking about Lady Sara St. James. She was a constant surprise to him, unlike any other woman he had ever known. Besides her intelligence and quiet courage, she had the same directness that Lord Ross did. That quality meant she should be easy to manipulate, because those who are naturally direct do not usually assume others to be devious.

It would be an interesting challenge to end Lady Sara's betrothal in a way that would be easy for her and painful for Weldon. But instead of considering ways and means, he found himself thinking back to the kiss they had shared. When she had responded with a potent blend of innocent wonder and sensuality,he had realized that underneath her proper exterior and inexperience was a passionate woman.

Over the years, Peregrine had learned that he could attract a woman's attention and interest by sheer force of will. It was a matter of concentration, of focusing all his intensity and desire. When he made the effort, even the least receptive females became very aware of him, while the most susceptible could be lured to his hand like a trained hawk.

Fortunately, Lady Sara had proved to be very susceptible indeed. Even when he made no special effort, there was a powerful current of attraction between them, but when he had consciously set out to capture her interest, she had softened and opened like a flower. If they had not been in a public place, he would have been delighted to continue what they had begun. Though she had demurred, he did not doubt that she could have been easily persuaded to change her mind.

But her innocence bothered him. While he had promised Ross not to hurt her, innocents were notoriously fragile. That was why he preferred to avoid them. Even though Lady Sara was twenty-seven and levelheaded, there was a strong likelihood that she would suffer some emotional bruising as a result of being caught between Peregrine and his enemy.

Peregrine's expression hardened. He would rather not betray Ross's trust, but even his own promise would not be permitted to come between him and his goal. While it would be regrettable if her ladyship's delicate sensibilities were injured, any damage he inflicted would be trifling compared to the disaster that would befall her if she were to become Weldon's wife.

He dismissed her from his thoughts as the hackney rumbled through an alley they had scouted earlier in the day. Kuram stopped the carriage just within the alley's mouth, so that horse and vehicle were hidden in the shadows. If there was any pursuit, they would be able to pull away quickly.Peregrine lifted the coil of rope he had prepared earlier and slung it over his shoulder, then climbed out of the carriage and made his shadowed way to Mrs. Kent's unsavory establishment. At this hour, the shabby street was empty, though drunken shouts and laughter came from a tavern that he passed.

The upper half of the brothel was washed by moonlight, which made it easy to count windows. Two floors above street level, second window from the rear. Having no desire to forage in a stinking London alley, he had brought his own pebbles. He drew one from his pocket and threw it against the dirty glass. After a minute passed without response, he tossed another.

He was about to throw a third pebble when the window moved upward in a series of jerks. A small blond head appeared and looked down warily. Peregrine stepped into the moonlight so that Jenny could identify him. After she waved in recognition, he tossed the end of the rope up to her. She missed the first time, and the line made a scraping sound as it slithered down the brick wall, but no one looked out to see what was happening. In this neighborhood, any such sounds would be attributed to rats.

On the second attempt she caught the rope, then disappeared inside. Wanting to keep it simple. Peregrine had tied a loop on the end of the line so it need only be dropped over a bedpost.

After a minute Jenny reappeared with a small, shapeless bundle of belongings. When it had been lowered to her rescuer, she climbed up on the windowsill. Even from twenty-five feet below, Peregrine could see the fear on her face, but without hesitation she turned and began inching her way down the rope.

She was small and agile, and with the aid of the knots he had tied in the line every eighteen inches she came down without serious difficulty. There was a touchy moment when a muffled cry sounded from the room below the one that had been hers. Jenny's head was level with the room's windowsill, and she froze for a moment, probably thinking of all that had happened to her within the brothel's walls. Then she continued her painstaking descent.

When she was within his reach, Peregrine set down the bundle and reached up to catch the girl by the waist. Her small body was icy cold and shaking. After setting her on the ground,
he
asked softly, "Are you all right?"

Nodding, she picked up her bundle, but her trembling didn't stop. He pulled his coat off and wrapped it around her. "It's just a block to the carriage."

She nodded again and followed him out into the street. Unfortunately, it was no longer empty, for three drunken sailors had spilled out of the tavern and were making their way down the middle of the road, clinging to each other and singing discordantly. Peregrine and Jenny would have to go around them to reach the hackney. He took the girl's arm with his free hand. "Don't worry, it will be all right," he said under his breath. "Just stay close and keep walking."