What a Reckless Rogue Needs (30 page)

“You have always loved your sister, Angeline.”

“Who would not love Penelope?”

“My lady, shall we dress you?” Marie said.

A tap sounded at the door. Margaret peeked inside. “May we come in?”

“Of course,” Angeline said.

The twins sat on the bed and watched as Marie tightened the strings of the stays and smoothed them out over the petticoat. Then she stepped inside the beautiful white gown with yards of lace and rosettes on the hem. Her mother clasped her own pearl necklace on Angeline. Then she donned her slippers. “Well?”

Her mother carefully hugged her. “I am so very happy for you. No one deserves it more.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

Another knock sounded. Margaret opened the door. The duke stood there. “It is time, Daughter.”

She took her father’s arm. He escorted her down the stairs and into the waiting carriage. Her mother and Penny followed inside. The carriage rolled off, and Angeline inhaled. “Oh, goodness, I have butterflies in my stomach.”

“That is normal,” her mother said.

The duke looked at Angeline. “You have always been beautiful, but you are even more so today.”

The carriage arrived quickly. Her arms were a little shaky as her father escorted her down the aisle. Colin’s friend Harry nudged him. Colin turned to watch her, and she knew she would never forget the look of love in his eyes.

At last Angeline stood beside him. Her little sister held her posy, and Harry winked at him.

The familiar words of the ceremony washed over Colin. Not long ago, his life had seemed so aimless, but standing in this church beside the woman who would be his wife from this day forward, he knew that there was a purpose to all things. Even before he took the marriage vows, he had sworn that he would never take her for granted, and he would tell her that he loved her every single day of their lives together.

Then it was time to repeat the vows. He slid the ring over her slender finger and looked into her eyes. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”

Reverend Quimby said, “For as much as Angeline and Colin have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands: I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Deerfield

There was much rejoicing at the wedding breakfast. Angeline ate very little because she still had butterflies in her stomach. Colin made up for it by eating two slices of cake. Bellingham and his wife attended. Three times Bell had to grab his son, who tried to pull Hercules’s curly tail.

The footmen circulated with glasses of champagne. Bianca and Bernadette got scolded after Margaret found them draining two glasses of champagne. The marquess was worried that they held their liquor like a man. He confessed to Colin that it didn’t bode well. Colin advised him to have locks installed on the sideboard.

Penny took a slice of cake to Harry. When Angeline remembered Penny asking about kissing boys, she steered her sister away from Harry and took her aside. “He’s too old for you, and he’s a rake.”

“He’s ever so witty,” Penny said. “I know he’s too old, but a girl can look.”

Someone dropped cake on the floor, and Hercules gobbled it up. Mrs. Quimby asked every single guest if they had made the acquaintance of Baron Overton. Mr. and Mrs. Faraday congratulated Colin and Angeline and said they had never had a finer time as actors.

The celebration lasted for hours, but as the autumn sun started to set, Colin took Angeline’s hands, and she thought she might melt on the spot from the way he looked at her. They said good-bye to all their friends and family, and then they took the carriage six miles to their home, Sommerall House.

There was a chilly breeze as they hurried to the door. Colin unlocked the door, picked her up, and carried her over the threshold. Then he slid her down his body. “Welcome home, my wife.”

She cupped his face. “My husband.”

They removed their wraps and walked up the familiar stairs. A fire was burning in the bedchamber where they had made love that rainy night. Someone, probably Margaret, had put the servants to work. The covers were turned down, and there was a bottle of wine.

He removed her stunning gown and all the rest of her clothing. Then he laid her on the sheets gently as if she were made of the finest crystal. After he shed his own clothes, he joined her in the bed and turned on his side. “Tonight is our first night as a married couple. I don’t want to think what my life might have turned out like if not for you. Now I have my family and yours and ours together. All because of you, my beautiful Angeline.”

She rose over him. “Lay back, Husband.”

“Why?”

“I want to take advantage of you.”

“Help,” he said in a mocking meek voice.

In the next moment, he gasped for real as she used her tongue on him. “Have mercy, Wife.”

Her only response was a wicked laugh.

London, spring 1822

A
t Angeline’s request, Mrs. Norcliffe delayed the ball for Angeline’s return to society in deference of the debuts for Penelope, Bianca, and Bernadette. Colin looked into his wife’s shining eyes and thought she was even more beautiful. She did look as if she were glowing within. Now and then she placed her hand over her slightly rounded belly.

Colin leaned down. “Is
she
kicking?”

“
He
is stretching and pushing as if he thinks he can get out.”

“
She
is anxious to make her debut, but it is too soon,” he said.

Angeline shook her head. “Every other man in the world wants a boy, except you.”

“I really don’t care, love. I just want you and the babe to be healthy.”

“We are,” she said. Then she grabbed his forearm. “Look, a boy asked Penelope to dance.”

He frowned. “Do her slippers have red stripes?”

“Yes, they were mine, but they fit her.”

“Aren’t those a bit…fast?”

“This from a reformed rake?”

He laughed. “By the by, are you planning to take all the walls down at Sommerall?”

She snorted. “Be careful or I will.”

“There they go, queuing up for the dance,” he said. “Shall we walk closer?”

“Yes, please,” she said.

He escorted her, setting his hand protectively over her belly whenever they moved through a particularly dense part of the crowd. Angeline saw a number of matrons smiling at him. They sat in chairs on the sideline because her back tended to ache if she stood too long. He held her hand and gave her his handkerchief when her eyes grew misty.

“This is the best gift you could ever give me,” she said.

“Most women want jewels and furs.”

“Those women don’t understand that the best gift in life is love.”

His heart turned over once again, and he figured he was the luckiest man in the ballroom tonight.

White’s, London 1822

T
hree months after his uncle’s death, Harry Norcliffe, the Duke of Granfield, needed to find his way back to his old life, which had disappeared under a mountain of grief. His uncle Hugh had been his father figure for as long as he could remember, and life at the farm in Wiltshire would never be the same without him.

Harry reached the door at the club, took a deep breath, and stepped inside the familiar hall. A servant appeared and bowed. “Welcome back, Your Grace.”

“Thank you.” He’d yet to adjust to his new title and felt oddly like an imposter. As he divested himself of his hat, greatcoat, and gloves, he remembered thinking there would be changes, but he’d not been prepared for so many. Tonight, however, he looked forward to meeting up with his old friends.

Harry strolled over to have a look at the betting book as he’d always done upon entering the club. Apparently Aubery had wagered Rollins a crown that it would rain on Tuesday. The frivolous bet reassured Harry that the world in London had gone on and so would he, despite the crushing loss of his uncle.

He strolled through the ground floor, looking for his friends. The clink of glasses and silverware echoed from the upstairs dining room, and the fragrant aroma of beefsteak teased his senses. Now he wanted nothing more than to quaff down one too many brandies and have a few laughs with his old friends.

He didn’t get far before Lords Fitzhugh and Castelle hailed him.

“Congratulations, on the dukedom,” Castelle said, pumping his hand.

“Congratulations,
Granfield,
” Fitzhugh said with emphasis.

Several other acquaintances approached as well. Harry acknowledged their greetings with a nod, but he neither wanted nor appreciated their congratulations. He knew they meant well, but no title or fortune would ever make up for losing his uncle.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder and said, “It’s the Devil himself.”

Harry’s spirits lifted immediately upon seeing his friend Bellingham. “I suppose it takes one to know one,” he said, grinning.

“Come, our old table is waiting, and there is someone I want you to see,” Bell said.

The world seemed right again as he followed his friend upstairs to the dining room. When they reached the table, Colin stood and pounded him on the back. “Harry, it’s good to see you.”

“And you. How is married life?”

“Well, Angeline hasn’t thrown me out on my arse yet,” Colin said.

“Oh, ho!” Harry said, laughing.

Bell motioned to Harry. “Do you remember this fellow?”

Harry frowned. When recognition dawned, he was astounded. “Is that Justin?”

Justin Davenport, the Earl of Chesfield, grinned as he extended his hand. “Pleased to see you, Harry.”

“Good Lord.” Harry turned his attention to Bell. “He was a skinny cub the last time I saw him.”

“He’s twenty-one now,” Bell said, “and six feet three inches tall.”

“What are you feeding him?” Harry said.

Bell laughed. “A great deal of beef.”

Harry signaled the waiter to bring brandies. When they arrived, he looked at Bell. “I can’t believe you’re letting the sprig drink brandy.”

“He’s of age and knows his limits. I wouldn’t have met his mother if not for that flask of brandy Justin hid very poorly,” Bell said.

Justin laughed. “It wasn’t my brightest idea, Father.”

“Fortunately, you’re past sowing wild oats.” Bell narrowed his eyes. “Correct?”

Justin’s smile slanted to one side. “Am I supposed to answer that?”

Everyone laughed.

Three years ago, Bellingham had sworn to be a lifelong bachelor, but he’d fallen hard for Laura Davenport. All of them had been fond of the recalcitrant lad, but he was a grown man now. The devil, how had time flown by so quickly?

After the waiter brought the brandies, Harry sipped his and regarded Colin over his glass. “What news do you have?”

Colin’s expression turned a bit abashed. “I will be a father by late summer.”

“Congratulations,” Harry said. Damn, his friends had become domesticated. He’d never thought he’d see the day. When he signaled the waiter again, Harry ordered beefsteak, potatoes, and cheesecake for his friends.

“Harry, do you still keep rooms at the Albany?” Colin asked.

“Yes, I still have my old rooms.” He’d found them rather comforting. After all of the events that had sent his world spinning, he appreciated the familiarity, including the shabby furnishings.

“What have I missed while I was gone?” Harry asked.

Bell shrugged. “Pembroke lost more hair. Old Lord Leighton is in love with the widowed Lady Atherton, but she swears she prefers her sherry to him.” He paused. “I almost forgot. Justin’s former friend George wrecked the second curricle his father unwisely purchased for him.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “Some things never change, I suppose.”

“My family is growing,” Bell said. “Stephen is three now, and we have an infant daughter, Sarah.”

Bell had changed a great deal. When they had first met, he’d been rather guarded. Over the course of one season, he’d become an indispensable friend to both Harry and Colin. Bellingham was definitely the sort of fellow one could count on.

When the waiters brought the food, Harry’s stomach growled at the scent of the sizzling beefsteak. He’d not even realized he was famished, but then, he hadn’t eaten well lately. Now that he was relaxing with friends, he wolfed down the beef, potatoes, and cheesecake.

After the waiter brought the coffee, Justin rose. “Please excuse me. Paul just arrived, and I’m planning to trounce him at the billiards table.”

“Go on, then,” Bell said. “Hail a hackney and don’t make a lot of racket when you come home. You do not want to face your mother’s wrath.”

When Justin retreated, Harry said, “You’ve certainly tamed his rebelliousness. Well done.”

Bell set his coffee aside. “He only needed guidance. I suppose we’ll keep him after all.”

“What about your family, Harry?” Bell asked.

He shrugged. “My girl cousins haven’t changed much, but my mother threatens daily to introduce me to the latest beauty on the marriage mart.”

Bell and Colin exchanged amused glances.

“What?” Harry said suspiciously.

“If you decide to get a lag shackle, we could form the old married men’s club,” Bell said.

“Ha-ha,” Harry said, setting his cup aside.

“That reminds me,” Bell said. “Laura invited you to dinner in a sennight.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess. I will be seated next to a lovely lady that your countess has chosen just for me.”

Bell’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Laura will be heartbroken if you do not attend, but don’t feel the least bit obligated.”

Harry snorted. “I just remembered a pressing engagement.”

“How are you holding up?” Colin said.

He’d known Colin since they were boys at Eton. “Well enough, I suppose.”

“Your uncle was an exceptional man,” Colin said. “I have fond memories of spending summers with you at his farm.”

“After his funeral, I kept expecting him to walk into the room,” Harry said. “He was like a father to me.”

“The good principles he taught you will live on inside you,” Bell said, touching his fist to his chest.

It helped to talk about his uncle with his friends.

After they finished their coffee, Bell turned to Harry. “When I came home from the Continent all those years ago, I found the estate business rather overwhelming. Your uncle’s steward and secretary are competent?”

“They are, but I’m not.”

“You’ll manage, but if you need advice or assistance, do not hesitate to contact me,” Bell said. “All the same, I have the greatest confidence in you.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Harry said.

Bell retrieved his watch. “Ah, damn, it’s getting late. I promised Laura I would return before midnight.”

“I must go as well,” Colin said. “My wife and I have an early appointment with an architect. Pity me. Angeline is determined to tear down half the town house I just bought.”

Harry laughed, but truthfully, he was a bit disappointed. In the old days, they would smoke cheroots and drink well past midnight. The differences between himself and his married friends weighed heavily on his mind. He enjoyed their company, but his friends’ priorities had shifted to their families. Nothing would ever be quite the same again.

Harry followed his friends downstairs, where they all donned their outerwear and walked out of the club. His breath frosted and the cold air chafed his cheeks as he shook hands with his friends.

“Can I give you a lift?” Bell said.

“No, it’s only a few blocks,” Harry said. “The streetlamps are lighted and a walk will clear my head.”

The misty fog swirled around him, but it wasn’t too dense tonight. Soon he must buy a carriage. He’d need one for inclement weather, and now that he was a bloody duke, he supposed he ought to have a decent vehicle for traveling. God knew he’d inherited an enormous fortune and could afford whatever caught his fancy. He’d always thought money would bring him happiness, but it hadn’t. Perhaps in time he would feel differently.

He was only a block away from the Albany when he saw a thief tugging on a woman’s basket. When she screamed, Harry ran as fast as he could and shouted, “Stop, thief!” The ragged man took one look at him and ducked down an alley.

“Are you hurt?” Harry said as he reached the woman. Lord, his heart was hammering in his chest.

“No, but I thank you, kind sir,” she said, picking up the half loaf of bread and dusting it off.

He couldn’t help noticing her shabby glove as she set the bread beneath a cloth in her basket. Yet she spoke in a crisp, educated manner. The hood of her threadbare cloak fell back as she straightened her small frame. The lighted oil lamp nearby revealed thick, red curls by her ears. She had the kind of hair that made a man want to take it down, but that only reminded him of her peril. “You ought not to be on the streets alone at night,” he said. “It’s dangerous for a woman.”

She pulled her hood up and scoffed. “Sir, I assure you, I would not set foot on these mean streets if I had any other choice.”

The woman’s plump lips and bright emerald eyes drew his attention. She was a rare beauty. “If you will allow it, I will escort you for your safety,” he said, smiling. “Surely you will not object to protection.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve done your good deed for the evening, Sir Galahad.” She reached in her basket and brandished a wicked-looking knife. “My trusty blade is protection enough.”

Holy hell. The fine hairs on his neck stiffened and every muscle in his body tightened.

She looked him over and shook her head. “Perhaps I should escort you for your safety.”

He laughed. “That’s rich.”

“Evidently, so are you.”

She’d obviously taken stock of his clothing and deduced he was wealthy. “Come now, I’m a man and far stronger than you. I can defend myself.”

She angled her head. “Have a care, sir. I quickly deduced you have a full purse inside your inner breast pocket. And if I can surmise that this quickly, you can be sure ruffians can, too.”

“You heard the coins jingling while I ran.”

She looked him over. “I wager those boots were made at Hoby’s. They’re worth a fortune. So is all of your clothing. At the very least, you ought to carry one of those canes with a hidden blade. Not everyone is as merciful as I am.”

“You believe
I
am in danger?” How the devil had this conversation taken such a bizarre turn?

She regarded him with a world of knowledge in her eyes. “Tonight, Sir Galahad, you are far more vulnerable than I am.”

Stunned into silence, he watched her disappear into the wispy fog. Then he reached inside another inner pocket and took out the penknife. A second, longer blade, far more wicked, folded out at the opposite end. He’d kept it hidden because he hadn’t wanted to frighten her. So much for gallantry, he thought wryly. He pulled up the collar of his coat to ward off the chill and continued on his way home, her impertinent green eyes haunting him the entire walk. And damned if they didn’t coax a smile out of him.

The next afternoon

Lucy Longmore found the address of Lady Blenborough, who lived in an elegant house situated near Green Park and not far from White’s Club. At least she would feel relatively safe in this neighborhood. Well, from everyone except her disgusting employer, Mr. Buckley, the dancing master. As much as she despised him, she needed the employment. Lucy was Buckley’s assistant, although she often did all of the teaching while Buckley tried to charm his lady clients. At least she had found a job using her dancing skills. It provided her with some income, though not nearly enough. She’d taken to sweeping floors at a dressmaker’s shop in the evenings, and that was the reason she’d been walking late last night. Of course, she was taking risks, but as she’d told the handsome stranger, she wouldn’t do it if she had another choice.

Last night, however, she’d had trouble sleeping after her encounter with the handsome gentleman. She felt a twinge of guilt for having brandished her knife after he’d helped her, but he was a stranger, and she had to protect herself. There was no one else to look after her grandmama.

If only she could get a letter of character, she knew she could find a better situation at one of the schools for girls or perhaps even a position as a companion to an elderly lady. Unfortunately, even if she could procure the necessary character letter, she feared it would be difficult to persuade someone to allow her blind grandmother to come along with her. But she’d made it this far using her wits, and she refused to give up hope. She always kept her eyes open for any new opportunities, and she had more than a little talent as a dance instructor.

Lucy went round to the servant’s entrance, and the kindly cook gave her a cup of tea and a roll. Lucy ate half the roll and stored the rest in her apron pocket for later. When Buckley peered inside the kitchen, he scowled. “I’ll dock your pay for fraternizing with the servants.”

She had learned the art of making her expression as blank as possible. It was her only defense against her horrid employer. When she followed Buckley to the drawing room, Lucy saw a plump girl who looked to be about twelve. A lady wearing a fine morning gown sat in a chair with a bored expression.