Between A Rake And A Hard Place [Pirates of London Book 2] (13 page)

Read Between A Rake And A Hard Place [Pirates of London Book 2] Online

Authors: Emma Wildes writing as Annabel Wolfe

Tags: #Erotic Romance/Historical

“He won’t.” Christopher Ives strolled into the study and eyed the snifter next to the wing chair by the desk. “I see you anticipated my arrival.”

“You said you needed a word. By all means sit down and tell me what happened.”

His friend dropped into the chair and picked up the glass. He looked every bit the fine London gentleman in formal clothing, his cravat tied in an intricate knot, his boots polished to a high sheen, but as always, his hair was a little too long for the current fashion so it gave him a rakish air, and there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Our villains sold her to a powerful sultan and I had to penetrate a harem to rescue our prize. Not the easiest task I’ve been given, but not the worst either. Remember that Turkish prison? Now that was a challenge indeed.”

Dryly, Beau said, “I remember. It was more like a miracle. Even the rats were afraid of that hole from hell.”

“Well, they should have been.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Beau took a sip from his glass and regarded his visitor. “May I assume she is unharmed?”

“Did he ravish her? No. Our luck held that he was absent when she was delivered and the delay worked in our favor, though I must say he was quite pleased when he finally saw his prize and I must assume furious when she escaped.”

“What a satisfying thought.” He meant it. Trading in human flesh was one of the worst sins he could imagine.

“I have not yet spoken to the earl. Understandably I wished for their family reunion to be a private affair.” Christopher idly turned his brandy glass in his long fingers. “Once she was safely inside the townhouse, I departed.”

“I feel confident he will wish to thank you personally.”

“Depending on what she confides in him, it is possible he will want to strangle me in my sleep or put a bullet through my black heart.” Ives leaned back, his gaze steady. “Since we are on the subject, I won’t take on any of your little projects for the next month or so just in case she’s with child. I’m staying in London.”

“I thought you just said…” Beau trailed off, the situation coming into a vivid clarity in his mind. After a moment he murmured, “Oh, I see. Hmm, rather not like you. Proper young ladies usually make you run in the opposite direction.”

“She’s unique.”

He thought about Hannah. Those lovely eyes and the softness of her mouth as it parted under his, and understood.

“I think I can understand that sentiment.”
Who more than I
? The acknowledgement was silent.

Restlessly his friend ran his hand through his hair, his expression shuttered. “She can do better.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Cassandra could marry well.” Ives gave him a dark look. “If you did not catch the inference of permanence, you are not as perceptive as usual.”

“I see.” The concept of Christopher Ives contemplating marriage was startling indeed.

Almost as disconcerting as Beau’s own recent musings on the subject.

He weighed his next words. “Socially, yes, she could do better. Quite frankly, before the abduction, we both know she was the toast of the most elite inner circles. Perhaps fate has decided to twist matters in your favor. There are two factors that might make Oakham look upon you with a less critical eye. You just returned his daughter, and I sincerely doubt her engagement will stand. Perhaps if she could still be proven pure, but you have just assured me otherwise.”

Ives said with heated emphasis, “All this focus on virginity makes me want to put my fist into someone’s jaw, preferably Lord Jameson’s. If he insults her in any way, I will be happy to give his lordship a bloody lesson in good manners. We both know he’s far from a saint.”

“Agreed, but you aren’t inclined to let him keep her anyway, are you? I take it you want me to interfere on your behalf.”

Ives looked at him over the rim of his glass. “Your special abilities might not be up to this challenge. I don’t know how to persuade Oakham into considering me as a potential son-in-law short of telling him I have bedded his daughter already, and that will hardly make for good will between us. It’s a damnable dilemma.”

“I concede it might take some inventive persuasion given your reputation as an adventurer and a rake. Your unprecedented foray into ruining aristocratic ladies is going to test my diplomatic skills. Shall we go see him together or is this request for me to test the waters first?”

“The problem is twofold. Not only am I not an earl, but I can’t quite see myself as a tame country squire either.”

“No.” It was irrefutable fact the more dangerous the assignment, the more it appealed to Ives. “But your lineage is hardly bourgeoisie and there is plenty for you to do here in England that will not send you off for months at a time. It would not do you harm to cease risking your neck so often.”

“Now you sound like my father.” Christopher’s smile was cynically amused.

“Let’s make that a first and a last, shall we?” Beau finished his drink. “I say you refuse the money and ask Oakham for his daughter’s hand instead. Seems like quite a fair bargain to me. Without you, he would no longer have her. Your intervention brought back his beloved child Am I making another assumption when I presume the lady would be in favor of this arrangement?”

His friend’s eyes took on a certain glitter of purpose. “I want her to be happy. I can push this—that I know, but how Cassandra feels about it is paramount to me. I do not wish to be the cause of them being at odds with each other if her father refuses my suit.”

Beau said softly, “Luck is with you, for I know someone who can find out exactly how she feels.”

* * * *

Her sister had changed.

Of course, any experience such as being seized by brigands and taken halfway around the world would change a person, but as Hannah sat on the edge of the bed, she thought the difference was not as expected.

Some of it was physical. Her sister’s normally fair, incomparable complexion was sun-kissed, the tint of gold giving her an exotic look, and though Cassandra had bathed at once and declared it a relief to wear proper clothing again, she’d deigned to have any sort of an intricate hairstyle and instead just had her maid put her golden tresses up in a simple loose knot.

Then there was the story itself. Brief, without details, to the point and at the same time quite vague. Cassandra claimed to not remember much about the actual abduction, was more than reticent about her brief captivity, and only said an Englishman, one their father had hired, had quite bravely rescued her from a royal palace.

All of that Hannah believed. It was what her sister
wasn’t
saying that bothered her.

Yet it was puzzling, for Cassandra did not seem all that distressed over the kidnapping and the inevitable scandal. Nor did she seem as joyous as one would expect over being home again. Luncheon had been a little strained, once the tearful reunions were over, since no one seemed to know what to say to one another. Luckily, Aunt Rose, their mother’s sister, who tended to chat incessantly at all times, relished the opportunity to relay all the recent gossip to someone who hadn’t heard it already several times and it had filled the void. However, it was probably natural for someone to act as if nothing had happened when returned to their disrupted life after such a dramatic absence, so Cassandra’s reticence was not surprising.

Still, it was…interesting.

Not to mention Hannah had Beau’s missive to consider.
Ask your sister about Christopher Ives. I will call this evening
.

The notorious Ives must be the handsome raven-haired man who had delivered Cassandra to the door, his hand lingering on her arm before they parted in a way that gave the impression of familiarity. He had said something and Cassie had nodded, her face averted, but she had also stood there and watched him return to the hired hack before she squared her shoulders and entered the house.

The hint of intrigue added to an already unusual situation.

“I imagine it will be a wonderful experience to sleep in your own bed this eve,” Hannah remarked, glancing around at the pale blue silk hangings and rich floral rug. “I came in here frequently when I was melancholy over your absence and just looked out the window, wondering if I would ever see you again.”

Her sister, who somehow seemed more beautiful than ever since her disappearance, gave her a misty smile from where she sat at her dressing table. “I missed you terribly. Once I realized I was a prisoner on that awful ship and it had sailed away from England, I despaired of ever seeing you again as well.”

“I cannot imagine what you experienced.”

“I was incredibly lucky, Han.” Her sister’s lashes lowered a fraction and her expression was introspective. She looked very young and innocent in a peach colored muslin gown. “My abductors didn’t touch me because I would bring a higher price, and I was rescued before the sultan could enjoy his purchase.”

That was an enormous relief. It was a question no one wished to ask. It seemed a miracle for Cassandra to have been locked in a harem and yet emerge unscathed.

It also was a good opening. Even without Lord Auberville’s interesting request in the note she’d received, she was personally curious. “Mr. Ives must be an enterprising young man to manage such a task, but then again, that is his reputation. Beau…I mean Lord Auberville, speaks very highly of him.”

“He’s remarkable in many ways.” Cassandra looked briefly away, her hands clasped in her lap.

And you are in love with him
.

Fishing for confidences was not exactly her forte, but Hannah was determined to proceed, and not just for Beau. Perhaps had she not been looking out the window to see who just arrived at that exact moment when the resourceful Ives gazed at her sister, she might not have been so blunt, but she’d seen the look. And at the moment, Cassandra was a little despondent for a young woman who was newly returned to her loving family. As sisters they knew each other well and she recognized uncertainty when she saw it.

“Is he married?”

“What?” Cassandra looked startled but then shook her with a rueful smile. “Am I so obvious? No, he isn’t married.”

A relief, but Ives was a mysterious figure who only moved on the fringe of society.

“You aren’t so obvious, darling, but the look the two of you exchanged before you parted spoke volumes. I happened to be standing in the drawing room at the time and saw it quite clearly.” Hannah paused. “He’s very handsome.”

“I don’t disagree.”

“I thought you might not. He brought you home. I like him already.”

“Am I still engaged to another man?”

That was pretty frank, but after what Cassandra had been through, perhaps a bit of frankness was in order. “I don’t know,” she admitted, the blocks of afternoon sun coming in the windows warming the room. “I’ve not heard otherwise, but then again, it would make him look shallow if Lord Jameson cried off before you were even found. He has visited father once since you vanished without an explanation. I have not been told about that conversation.”

“I
won’t
marry him.”

At that quiet declaration Hannah had to say, “I never thought you should.”

Her sister’s mouth compressed. “The ironic part of all this is that whatever happens next, I think those terrible men who snatched me off the street might have done me a good service. I should have made it clearer to Father how unenthusiastic I was about the engagement.”

“I don’t disagree since you are returned to us unharmed.” While she had hopes for her relationship with Beau, this was her
sister
. So she didn’t feel it was at all a betrayal of loyalty, nor was she sure, in his sleight of hand way it wasn’t intended, when she drew out the note from her pocket and extended it. “Now, tell me why Lord Auberville wishes for me to ask you about Ives.”

Her sister scanned the piece of vellum and slight color rose in her cheeks. “I wonder if Christopher requested it.”

Her hand trembled and Hannah
knew
. Yes, definitely in love.

“Why did he not ask you himself?”

“Believe it or not, and if you knew him you would find this even more incomprehensible, I think he was afraid to directly ask me.” Cassandra smoothed the note with shaking fingers. “I have never known anyone so fearless and resourceful, but I know he is worried I am going to have regrets. That perhaps it was just a shipboard romance and once I am back in the whirl of society I will dismiss my infatuation for someone with a title and fortune.”

“Regrets?” Hannah said the word cautiously. “Precisely what is it you would regret, Cassie?”

Her sister blushed, but her gaze was direct. “I said the sultan didn’t touch me. I did not say I am still innocent.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to respond to that confession—and
was
admittedly intensely curious to find out what her sister thought of the experience—so she merely said lamely, “I see. Well, surely that settles the matter. Out of honor, he has to marry you.”

Cassandra rose and paced over to the window to stare out over the garden. “Ironically enough, I don’t want to force him and I know he doesn’t want to force me. Yet I hope we actually desire to wed each other.”

“You are in love with him?”

“Yes.” The answer was hushed.

“And he with you. Obviously so, or he would not have his friend sending cryptic notes to me.” Hannah rose and went to the window also, pressing her hands on the sill, but in truth, she was lighter than she been in a long time. Cassandra was back, and she would not have to marry boring Lord Jameson, and Beau had enlisted
her
aid and was going to call later.

They had not seen each other since he had kissed her.

It promised to be an intriguing evening.

Chapter 13

Lord Auberville was as she remembered; urbane and unreadable.

He murmured, “Lady Cassandra, it is such welcome news that you are home safe and unharmed.”

And then he negligently adjusted the spill of lace at his cuffs, as if he hadn’t had hand in the entire rescue mission.

Several hints from Christopher and Marcus and she knew better. However, sitting in a room with her father and her sister; not to mention her gossipy aunt, she could hardly point it out. “Thank you, my lord.”

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