The Art of Ruining a Rake (39 page)

She shied away and put up one hand as he came closer. “Stop. Don’t touch me.”

Anger flared across his handsome face. “You don’t have to choose
his
side.”

She crossed her arms over her abdomen. Her chin jutted higher. “No. But I agree with him. You need help. A barrister or solicitor, someone to draw up your accounts and establish a plan—”

“I don’t have time.” Dare strode closer. He towered over her, undaunted by her rejection. “They are
here
.”
 

She blinked, confused. “Who?”

“The bullies.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “They followed you?”

“As they do. They’ve done
this
.” He unraveled his neckcloth. “Do you see it? The mark where his bloated hands strangled my very breath away?”

Her eyes widened at the sight of the angry burn encircling his neck. Two purplish bruises in the shape of beefy thumbs stood dark and ominous at the base of his throat. “Dare!”

He stepped back, giving her some relief. “It’s not a trifle, is it? They want me dead.”

“You should go to the authorities—”

“And explain what?” he asked sharply. “That I owe almost ten thousand quid to some unsavory sorts? The kind of men who are willing to take me apart piece by piece until they get every last bloody cent? The alternative is
prison,
Lucy. King’s Bench
killed
my father. It almost took Constantine. I’d rather be strangled as a free man than die alone in a disease-ridden cell.”

His vow haunted the silence. She couldn’t drag her gaze from the red imprints encircling his throat. “What do you want me to do?” she asked. “I have no money. I can’t help you. I know of no way I can assist.”

His wrinkled cravat fluttered to one side as he came toward her. The intensity in his eyes was startling, impossible to evade. His voice was a near-whisper, his excitement palpable. “Ask Ashlin for it.”

She gaped at him. She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “My brother?”

His blue eyes took on an eerie light. “The amount is nothing to him, really. Tell him you need it. Tell him—tell him you’re with child. Roman’s probably put his bastard in your belly, anyhow.”

Her lips formed an O of outrage. Then, without thinking, she slapped him. The reverberation jarred her shoulder. Her hand stung painfully. But she savored Lord Dare’s resounding bewilderment as he lifted his fingers to feel his cheek.

“Get out,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “You disgust me.”

Slowly, he straightened. He didn’t speak, just watched her warily. As if he feared she’d attack him again.

“You’ll not have a penny from me or my family.” She pointed toward the open door. “Leave.”

He continued to stare at her. A scarlet handprint was already forming on his cheek.

“You heard her,” Trestin said behind her, causing her to whirl around. “Get out.”

Dare’s eyes hardened. Slowly, he dropped his hand from his face. “As you wish.” Each syllable clipped tightly.

Lucy went still. Dare loomed large at her left. Trestin brewed to her right. He didn’t dignify Dare’s insubordination with a response.

He didn’t need to. One thing he’d never lacked was a disapproving presence.

Finally, Dare brushed past her. She stood with her brother in relieved silence until the sound of the front door closing reached them. Then she looked gratefully at Trestin. “Thank you. I was afraid he wouldn’t leave.”

Trestin’s frigid expression gave her chills. Did he hear
why
she’d slapped Lord Darius?

He approached her and touched her upper arm, the most contact he’d made with her since hugging her in Gloucester. “Are you hurt?” he asked in a surprisingly kind voice.

“No. Just rattled.” She placed a hand on her belly where her heart had fallen.
I thought you might have heard him claim I’m with child.

“I thought he might be armed,” she said instead.

Trestin grabbed her and hugged her to him. “Good God.”

Awkwardly, she fit her arms about his chest and returned his squeeze. But he didn’t release her. His hold on her intensified, until she could scarcely draw breath.

“Really, Trestin,” she said, trying to pull away. “I’m unhurt.”

He crushed her to him again, then released her so she stood at arm’s length. “I’m a ninny. It’s just that you were magnificent. I had no idea you were frightened until just now.”

“Praise? From you?”

He grinned, and she had an inkling how he’d managed to steal Celeste’s heart. “I’m proud of you. You’re not the wilting flower I always asked you to be, and I’m glad of it today. Lord Darius deserved to be shown the door.”

Again she felt terrified to think what Trestin might have overheard.

“I’m surprised Tony has allowed this wound to fester in the family,” Trestin said, stepping away. “Usually he’s more severe.”

Lucy went to the sofa and sat. Her legs had gone wobbly. With relief because Dare had left? Or with fear Trestin might inquire about her night with Roman? Surely he would understand.

“Lord Antony?” she asked dimly, distracted. “Wouldn’t setting Lord Dare to rights be Lord Montborne’s duty?”

Trestin moved to stand beside her. She could see his profile if she looked up, which she steadfastly avoided doing. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Ah, so things
have
changed. They say Tony has gone back to Parliament. Is it true?”

She felt him look at her.

“If so,” he continued, “I wonder why he would have done that.”
 

“I don’t keep informed of Lord Antony’s activities,” she said when he seemed to think she knew the answer.

“Then you haven’t heard?”

She finally accepted she wouldn’t be able to avoid his quizzing forever. Especially not when he was deliberately provoking her. She looked up at him. “It seems not. What do you mean?”

He was watching her with a curious expression, almost as if he wanted to laugh and shake some sense into her. “Montborne has taken over the family’s affairs. He’s pushed Tony out, but that’s not the whole of it. Yesterday, he gathered up the investors and presented a case for another round of funding. I’ve spoken to a few men who attended the symposium. The word ‘astounded’ was used no less than three times in their report.”

Lucy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “My Roman?”

Her brother’s smile turned into a chuckle. “Yes, yours.”

She faced forward, needing to focus on something other than her brother’s cheerfulness. He seemed happy with her, as though she’d done something marvelous.

“I haven’t accepted his hand,” she said shortly, expecting it would lessen his enthusiasm.

“Poor chap,” Trestin said lightly, surprising her. “All this effort to improve himself and it hasn’t even turned your head.”

She knew she ought not to take the bait, but she couldn’t help herself. It seemed wrong to let Trestin think she didn’t care, when she was in fact quite moved. Roman was changing. Or trying to. “I wouldn’t say that,” she replied carefully. “He’s becoming a man worthy of my friendship.”

“Is that all?” Trestin asked, then laughed quietly again. “Poor sot.”

She turned to her brother. “Why do you champion him when he’s done so much to hurt you?”

Trestin looked surprised. “He didn’t ruin you to get even with me.”

She hesitated. Hearing Trestin’s account with her own ears might change her perception of Roman. “I meant, he deliberately tried to turn you away from Celeste. Because he loved her.”

Trestin’s eyes widened. “He told you?”

She nodded.

Trestin moved to sit beside her on the couch. Together they stared at the hearth opposite. “She said you would be shattered if you found out. Are you very upset with her?”

“Celeste?” It hadn’t occurred to her to be disappointed in her sister-by-law. She had to consider it.

“I could be,” she mused. “She knew I fancied him for myself. I would have wanted to know at the time. But I was too inexperienced to have understood properly, and so I’m glad she didn’t tell me.” Lucy looked at her hands. “Had I known of his interest in her when I first approached her for help, I would have assumed it was a flirtation, meaningless to him and just as trifling to her. But it was so much more. He truly loved her. She was—”

Lucy sat up straighter.
His soul. His right arm. The pillow on which he slept at night.

A deafening sense of understanding overtook her. She looked at her brother. “Roman
loved
her.”

Trestin nodded slowly, still staring ahead. Then he glanced at her. “And?”

She rose to stand and turned to him. “He loves
me
now.”

Trestin came to his feet, gesturing for her to continue. “And?”

“And,” she said, a grin threatening to make her look as silly as she felt, “maybe that is all we need.”

He smiled at her. “It’s not,” he said, giving her a pat on the shoulder, “but it’s a very good start.”

“Are
you
cross with him?” She peered at Trestin, needing to know the truth.

He shook his head. “I had reason to be, at the time. But it’s not so hard to forgive him. He’s become rather skilled at apologizing, you know.”

She sobered.

Trestin touched her wrist. “The thing of it is, he didn’t used to even try to make amends. Don’t worry, Lucy. I think you’ll make something of him yet.”

She nodded, feeling a tremor of hope. But somehow, judging Roman seemed unfair. She was hardly a paragon of perfection, herself.

Then she remembered.
I want to see how you grow. Live. Laugh. I didn’t mean to ruin you, but I can’t help but be glad—just a little bit—that I did.

She met her brother’s gaze. “And
he,
” she said, “shall make something of
me
.”

Chapter 19

“MISS LANCESTER FOR you, my lord,” Mr. Benjamin said from the threshold of Roman’s library, where Roman had spent the last hours reading somewhat painfully through a proposed contract. “I’ve put her in the drawing room.”

Roman came to his feet. Then he looked around at his freshly polished furniture and sat back down. This was his domain now. The more time he spent within its walls, the more fitting it seemed for him to be here.

Even if he did, on occasion, feel like an impostor.

“You may show her in,” he said, indicating the grouping of wingback chairs to one side of his desk.

Mr. Benjamin nodded and went to retrieve Lucy. Roman set the contract aside and concentrated on the pleasing prospect of seeing his love after several long days of missing her. He’d expected to have to go to her; that she would come to him first, well.

It seemed he had everything exactly as he desired it.

He should be happy.

He stared at the new arrangement to his right. His Mayfair library had once boasted two desks, as had Plymbridge. One for his brother and one for himself. But just hours ago he’d arrived to find Tony’s desk replaced by four supple wingback chairs and a handsome table. The open box of cigars seemed to have been meant as a parting gift.

Though Tony’s abdication had been Roman’s dream for the last several months, he felt curiously empty. He had responsibilities he wasn’t prepared for, jobs he couldn’t fail at, and not enough time to get his wits about him before he made decisions that could affect their family for generations. Perhaps Tony had been right not to surrender his responsibilities straightaway. Perhaps Roman simply wasn’t ready.

He rose to his feet as Lucy entered. He went to her and took her hands.

“My lord,” she demurred, dipping a half-curtsey.

He devoured the sight of her, for she alone made him feel capable. She looked becoming in a yellow chiffon walking dress. Feminine, yet put together without the distraction of gaudy paste or flowers.

“You’ve come,” he said, pulling her closer.

She searched his face. For one heart-rending moment, he thought she would kiss him. “I’ve missed you,” she said instead. “What has kept you?”

Ah, but he deserved to be taken to task for his inattention. “I had matters to see to. It doesn’t excuse my absence. I hope you’ll forgive me.”