A Rogue of My Own (23 page)

M
ORNING CALLERS BEGAN TO
show up at Rupert’s home the week following the ball, with the pretense of visiting his mother. Julie wasn’t really in the habit of receiving this number of callers, yet Rupert had never seen his mother so accommodating. Her gruff, manly role had been shelved! She was now the doting mother-in-law and soon-to-be-doting grandmother, though she didn’t share that with her unexpected guests. She obviously wanted to, but she was waiting for his permission to do so, and he certainly wasn’t ready to give it.

Rebecca had no clue, thankfully, that at least half of the women who showed up at Rupert’s door that week were his former lovers. His mother had no clue, either. But the ladies simply refused to believe that he’d married, despite the gossip attesting that the confirmation had come from him. They knew him, so it was logical to doubt a rumor like this. They wanted to see it firsthand and hear it from his mother.

Rupert had never been so glad that he’d finished with those women on good terms, was even friends with a few of them.
Not one of them came by to stir up trouble. Oddly, the women he’d spent some time flirting with but hadn’t gotten around to pursuing any further were the ones who felt slighted. Some of them had proved vindictive. They weren’t young girls, though. Elizabeth Marly had been the only exception, but then she’d been business rather than pleasure.

Rebecca handled the company well. She was exceptionally good with people, articulate and amusing and not the least bit shy. His own family had taken to her well. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing, though he supposed it was better than their all condemning her for the trap she’d led him into and treating her like a pariah.

His anger was still present, he’d merely locked it up so tightly he tended to forget it was there. He’d locked it up for a good reason. He was protecting his baby. He didn’t want his anger to invite her own, which might affect the baby adversely.

His truce with her, though, was having unexpected results that put him in a different sort of quandary. She hadn’t been in his house for long, yet he seemed to be getting used to the idea that she was there to stay. It had snuck up on him and now wouldn’t go away. And he didn’t mind it! Which made no sense a’tall. She
would
be leaving, just as soon as her biggest lie came to light. But what if she didn’t? What if he kept her instead?

He couldn’t deny that if he
had
been looking for a wife, she would have made a prime candidate. She was delightfully pretty, exceptionally intelligent, and too witty by half. She could make him laugh even when he was furious with her! If he was going to be brutally honest, he admired too bloody many things about her. Even his attraction to her went a little too far. He shouldn’t still want a woman who’d brought about his downfall. Yet he did.

Being pulled in completely opposite directions was quite unsettling. Look at his ridiculous reaction at that ball to her wanting to keep their marriage under wraps. Where in the bloody hell did that anger and jealousy come from? It would be too easy for Rebecca to conclude from his own actions that he was getting proprietary over her. And by keeping his anger in hand for the most part, and telling her he was tired of fighting, regardless if it was true or not, he could well have given her the impression that she’d won the war. Which wasn’t the case a’tall.

So he was rather glad when the missive arrived from Nigel requesting a meeting. Rupert was ready to sink his teeth into anything that would get him out of the house and away from Rebecca’s constant presence.

He arrived at the palace at the appointed hour. Nigel only kept him waiting a few minutes.

“Has Pearson been apprehended?” Rupert asked.

“It wasn’t necessary,” Nigel said on his way to his liquor cabinet. “Brandy?”

Rupert had stiffened. “No, and why wasn’t it necessary? The evidence I sent you wasn’t conclusive enough?”

His own brandy in hand and wearing his usual inscrutable expression, Nigel took the chair next to him. “On the contrary, the evidence would have gotten him hung, but your bullet saved us the trouble. The wound you gave him was severe enough that he died a few days after you returned to England.”

“What the hell, my aim is better than that and I wasn’t trying to kill him.”

Nigel shrugged, unperturbed. “By your own account, you were being bounced about in a fleeing coach. Perfectly understandable to have your aim fly off the mark in such a case. So,
we are satisfied that justice has been served. A job well done, dear boy.”

Rupert didn’t care for unexpected endings like that. Annoyed, he broached his summons. “I hope you’re not sending me out of the country again. I’d prefer to remain close to home just now.”

“Someone ill?”

“No.”

When Rupert didn’t elaborate, Nigel made a face and got directly to the business at hand. “Sarah is finally out of the palace for good.”

“By choice?”

“No.”

When Nigel didn’t elaborate, Rupert almost laughed. Touché. But he knew Nigel wouldn’t leave it at that, and he didn’t.

“By all accounts she has retired from intrigue as well, since she no longer has a horde of lackeys to do her bidding. She’s getting married, though, which is what leads me to believe she’s retired from intrigue.”

Now that was a surprise. “Sarah married? But who would have her?”

“Lord Alberton. Not a bad catch, though the young debutantes might not think so, him being in his late forties. But he’s titled, rich, and easy on the eye.”

“While Sarah is exactly the opposite on all accounts. What’d she do, blackmail him into it?”

Nigel shrugged. “He was one of her targets last year, so that would be my guess.”

“Over the attempt on the queen?”

“No, I have given up trying to associate Alberton with that foul deed. Mere coincidence is all that turned out to be, that he
happened to be seen upbraiding the boy who shot at her. But during that investigation I did turn up another bit of sordid business where he risked a brief affair with a young married duchess.”

“And you think that’s what Sarah has on him?”

“That’s my guess. In fact, I’m almost inclined to believe that most of her scandal gathering was in the interest of her buying herself a husband. She may have lined her pockets a little along the way, but I have a feeling she’d prefer a prime catch over money.”

“He’s not exactly a prime catch at his age.”

“For a woman
her
age, he is. And those in the ton tend to put a great deal of stock in the criteria that Lord Alberton fills.”

Rupert raised a brow. “Bragging rights?”

“If you want to call it that.”

“But if that’s the case, why did she wait so long?”

“Shopping?” Nigel rolled his eyes over his own catty remark. “Who can ascertain the mind of a woman? But she could have merely wanted a decent-sized list of titles to choose from. Regardless, I’d just like to be absolutely sure that she’s done with ferreting out information that she had no business knowing about.”

This was to be Rupert’s job? He couldn’t help groaning, “Not her again.”

“You’re still friends with her, aren’t you?”

“I’ve let that peter out, so she might not see it that way.”

“Well, now that she’s out of the palace, it might not hurt to simply be honest with her—and ask her directly. They are having a party tonight at Alberton’s house to announce their engagement. I’ve obtained an invitation for you and a companion.”

Rupert sighed and accepted the folded invitation Nigel
handed him. “I suppose my wife can be considered a companion.”

“That isn’t funny.”

“What part of it do you consider a joke?”

“
You’ve
married?”

“Too busy digging deep to notice what’s floating on the surface in plain sight? It’s the current on-dit making the rounds.”

Nigel didn’t merely look shocked, he looked devastated. And it certainly wasn’t because he was the last to know. But for once, Rupert didn’t fly off the handle over this obvious reminder of how Nigel felt about him. He even understood a little better, now that he was having feelings of his own that were quite out of his control.

Nigel recovered somewhat after draining his brandy. At least he managed to get his expression under control.

His voice, however, was still shaky when he said, “I…suppose congratulations are in order.”

Rupert kept his own voice toneless. “Not really. It may just be a temporary arrangement. We won’t know for a few more months.”

“So it’s like that? But I thought you stayed away from young virgins.”

“I do—did. But having one show up in my room at the palace late at night was a bit more’n I could resist. The very audacity of that suggested she wasn’t virginal, but she was.” Rupert sighed.

“Who is she?”

“Our last maid of honor, Rebecca Marshall, who is no longer a maid.”

Nigel looked appalled now. “Good God, I hope this wasn’t
my
fault!”

Rupert’s eyes narrowed slightly as he said, “Rest easy. You merely supplied her with an excuse to enact her own agenda, which was to get into my family one way or another.”

Did he
really
believe that now? Doubts. There were too many where she was concerned. Yet to find her innocent on all counts was to admit that he’d gone beyond the pale himself. With any other supposed innocent showing up in his room looking and sounding so sexy, he would have been leaping out the bloody window in a panic to escape such an obvious trap. So the truth was, he hadn’t
wanted
to resist Rebecca.

Nigel broke into his thoughts, observing, “She didn’t strike me as mercenary.”

Rupert choked back a laugh as he stood up to leave. “It’s a fallacy of ours to think most women are empty-headed and in need of our guidance because of it. It’s only what they want you to think, you know.”

“They aren’t all as intelligent as this girl.”

“Of course not, no more than all men are created equal. But you’d be surprised just how many are smarter than they let on.”

Rupert made his way to the door. Behind him, Nigel remarked, “I find myself surprised to say, she’s well suited to you.”

Rupert stopped and swung around angrily. “You are
not
going to try to enlist her again.”

“No, wouldn’t dream of it. I
was
sorry when she decided not to work for me. They may not all be empty-headed chits, as you say, but it’s still quite rare to find a girl that young with the intelligence to improvise as needed. I merely recalled that you’d found her to be a challenge, even remarked on it. I think in a wife, with anything less than that sort of challenge, you’d find
yourself bored very quickly. At least she’ll keep you on your toes.”

That didn’t deserve a reply. Challenge indeed. The woman was nothing
but
a challenge. He didn’t want to stand that bloody high on his toes!

T
HEY HAD ATTENDED SEVERAL
more parties as chaperones for Amanda, but this was the first time Rupert was taking Rebecca to a party himself. He hadn’t told her much about it, merely what time to be ready, and to wear something fetchingly wifely, whatever the deuce that meant. She couldn’t say exactly what got her so excited about it.

Amanda was pouting upstairs because Julie had scolded her for trying to intrude on a private affair when Amanda had asked to join them. That could be what had triggered Rebecca’s excitement. It sounded so personal, “private affair.” And with so little information volunteered, this evening’s party had the feel of a surprise to it.

So she took special care with her appearance that night and ignored that her pink and violet, laced evening gown was yet another dress from her wardrobe that was fitting her far too snugly now. An amethyst pendant was attached to the velvet choker around her neck; thin, wispy golden curls dangled at her temples; an actual spark of blue was in her dark eyes, so
rarely seen. Because the excitement was building to an uncontainable level?

She fairly flew downstairs the moment Flora pronounced her ready. Of course Rupert wasn’t anywhere to be seen yet. So with a sigh she joined Julie and Owen in the parlor. They paused in their card game to chat with her and remark on how fetching she looked.

Though Julie did whisper in an aside to her, “It’s time for you to get a new wardrobe, gel, that gives you a little room to breath. I’ll take you shopping next week.”

Rebecca was still blushing a little over that when Rupert walked in and Julie said in complete disgruntlement, “Rebecca,
why
haven’t you burned his wardrobe yet?”

Rebecca turned to see what had provoked that question, then just stared. Her husband was wearing one of those horribly bright satin coats better suited to a costume ball, this one in a ghastly orange, with excessive lace at the wrists and the throat. With his long black hair and his soft cheeks so smoothly shaved, it made him look somewhat effeminate when she knew he was anything but.

But he actually looked to be trying not to laugh when he said to his mother, “She’ll do nothing of the sort. She likes my taste in clothes. It reminds her of when we first met.”

Rebecca continued to just stare, her mind in a whirl. It sounded as if he was just teasing, but she couldn’t be sure. To imply that she had fond memories of their first meeting wasn’t even remotely amusing. She had nothing of the sort.

“You can’t seriously intend to take your wife out wearing something like that?” Julie continued.

“What’s wrong with what she’s wearing?”

“Not her, you fool. You! You’re married now. Your old taste in clothes—”

“Marriage has nothing to do with taste, Mother,” Rupert cut in. “Well, perhaps a little, at least in women, but nothing a’tall to do with one’s wardrobe. Shall we go, m’dear?”

The last was added for Rebecca as he put an arm around her to lead her out of the room. His hand on her hip was all she could think about.

But his mother refused to be dismissed so easily. Julie actually shouted after him, “Find a new tailor! You’re mortifying your wife!”

Rebecca refrained from glancing at him to see how he took that remark. Perhaps this was a costume ball they were headed to and he hadn’t mentioned it because he didn’t want to risk his wife’s showing up in a man’s garb again. He could just have said so. She did have a number of costumes now that didn’t include breeches.

His crested coach was waiting outside for them, Matthew on the driver’s box. Once they were inside it with the door closed, seated on opposite benches, she watched incredulously as Rupert performed an immediate transformation.

He shrugged out of his bright satin coat first and laid it on the seat beside him. The long stream of lace at his cuffs wasn’t actually a part of his white lawn shirt after all, was merely tied to his wrists to make it seem so, and he untied those now and tossed them on top of the coat. The flowing cravat came off next, to reveal a thin, fashionable one beneath it. Finally he stood up—well, not really, he was too tall for that, but he got off his seat so he could lift it up to put the discarded items away and take out another coat that had been stashed there, a quite tasteful one in dark navy blue with a thin trim of black satin on the lapels.

She understood now, or thought she did. His apparel had been a ruse to tease his mother with? Julie was the only one
who made a fuss about it. But why go to such extremes? Yet she’d seen it quite often during the week, how gruff and mulish Julie got when he said something she disapproved of, and he did it so often! All in jest? Julie didn’t seem to take it that way.

He finally looked over at her and asked pointedly, “
Were
you mortified?”

Confused was what she’d been, but she wasn’t going to say so. “Um, not really, though I confess I suspected we were going to a costume ball and you simply forgot to mention it. Why do you tease your mother so mercilessly?”

“Out of the goodness of my heart.” That made not a jot of sense to her until he added, “It gives her purpose, to think she still needs to whip me into shape. Although I suppose I could tone it down for a while. It’s getting quite hard to get a spark out of her while she’s so bloody delighted with me.”

He seemed exasperated and annoyed at the last part of his remark and got back to making sure he now looked presentable, smoothing out his sleeves, jerking down his lapels to make sure they were straight. She finally understood Amanda’s remark to her earlier in the week, when she’d tried to explain her aunt’s bullish demeanor wasn’t natural at all.

“It’s a trait she’s developed,” Amanda had told Rebecca. “She felt she had to make the sacrifice, to give up her softer side so she could take on the role of both parents for her sons while they were so young. An extreme transformation that mostly amused the family after she couldn’t be talked out of it. Stubbornness runs in our family, you know.”

Amused now, and feeling an odd sort of tenderness for the eldest son who was still trying to make sure his mother didn’t feel she’d wasted the effort, Rebecca said, “At least you didn’t need to change your breeches.”

He glanced up again instantly, pinning her eyes with his, his own suddenly gone lambent. “Now why didn’t I think of that? Would it inspire you to ravish me?”

She wasn’t going to answer that! Yet an image was now branded in her mind of him sitting there with no breeches. Her blush was acute.

He took pity on her though and took his overly sensual gaze off her to say, “You needn’t worry in that regard—at least until spring. I draw the line at freezing my arse during the winter months.”

He wouldn’t have been cold. The weather was quite chilly, but certainly not that extreme yet so early in December. And besides, a brazier was heating the enclosed space nicely so they didn’t need to bundle up in coats just to go from coach to party and back. But she appreciated his attempt to diffuse her discomfort over her thoughtless humor.

She managed to keep her eyes off him for the remainder of that short ride. No matter what he wore, the man was still far too handsome not to affect her in unwanted ways. Still thinking about him with no pants on, she got so uncomfortably hot by the time they reached their destination, she wished she’d brought a fan with her. In the winter.

But all heat left her when she recognized the house they alighted in front of. Lord Alberton’s residence on Wigmore Street.

Good God, she’d been set up, was her first thought. Did Rupert want some kind of closure on what she’d told him so long ago? Was he trying to
prove
her excuse for showing up in his room in the palace that night had been a lie?