In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady (25 page)

“We have a local sheriff, my lord.”

“This matter is above him. Tell everyone to be wary outside. There were men shooting at me out in the park, and although I believe they've mostly run off, you will find two bodies. Don't let them be moved until the constable gives such an order.”

Dudley's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he only nodded.

“Is there someone to care for Lady Florence?” Julian asked.

One of the women stepped forward. “I am Lady Florence's nurse, my lord.”

“Is there a place where she can be kept under guard, where she won't hurt anyone?”

“Of course, my lord,” she said. She looked down wide-eyed at her employer. “Mr. Windebank told all of us to stay away, that he had business colleagues in here. I never would have left her, but he insisted that—”

“This isn't your fault,” Julian said firmly. “Take good care of my aunt.”

Biting her lip, she nodded. “My lord, keep Mr. Windebank's wound bound tightly until the doctor arrives.”

“Thank you.”

Then she went to speak softly to Lady Florence. Julian watched his aunt be led away.

Rebecca came to him, and he put an arm around her.

“You're bleeding!” she said, staring at his arm.

“It's of little consequence, although I promise to have the doctor look at it.”

“Thank you. Can we speak in private?” she asked softly.

He nodded. “Dudley, stay with your master until the doctor arrives. I will be right back. If you need me, shout. I'll be able to hear.”

Several doors down, Julian led Rebecca into a morning room with tall windows that overlooked the park. A feminine desk was placed strategically so that its occupant had a beautiful view. But now the sun had set, and the grounds looked shadowed and menacing.

Rebecca touched the empty desk gently. “Do you think she was ever able to sit here, like a normal woman?”

“Yes, she did. I've seen it myself. Rebecca…” To his embarrassment, his voice broke. “When I knew he'd taken you, when I thought of the terrible danger you were in because I hadn't kept you safe—”

“No, Julian, no. Your uncle is a criminal. It wasn't your fault.”

She came to him then, folding her arms about him. They clung to each other for several long minutes. He was so grateful for her safety that he was shaking with it.

“When you went for that poker—”

“When you dived at him—”

They broke off, giving each other shaky smiles.

Rebecca took a deep breath. “I'll tell the constable everything, Julian, all about how I came by the diamond.”

He frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I want to help clear your father's name, even if it means exposing the painting to the world. I don't care about notoriety.” She reached up to cup his face. “I care about you. I want to help heal the terrible things in your past.”

Julian simply stared at her, stunned that she would sacrifice herself and her reputation—for him. He gave her a gentle smile, “No, Rebecca, I can't let you do that.”

“But—”

“Just listen to me.” He rubbed his hands up and down her back as he held her to him. “Remember, Chief Constable Bulmer is a friend of mine. He'll be able to ensure that the official saga of the jewel won't mention your painting. It won't matter, after all, since we can connect the jewel to my uncle, and through my aunt to Eastfield, and eventually to the poor man's death. Promise me you won't mention the painting at all.”

When she hesitated, he gave her a little shake.

“Rebecca, you've done so much to help me. Let me protect you in this—let me protect your family.”

At last she nodded. “If you're certain it won't harm the case against your uncle.”

“I'm certain.”

Someone knocked on the door.

“I'll be out in a moment,” Julian called. He kissed her, and although he meant it to be swift, they lingered
together until at last he lifted his head. “I have to go. The doctor will be arriving soon, and then the constable. But promise me we can speak again later. There's so much to say.”

Her eyes widened even as she nodded. “Tonight, then, Julian. I'll be waiting.”

 

After Rebecca bathed and dressed in a nightgown and dressing robe, she felt clean and new. Servants had brought her a tray for a late supper, but she hadn't wanted to eat it alone.

There was a soft knock on her door, and she opened it so that Julian could slip in. He, too, was wearing clean clothing, trousers and a shirt that didn't quite fit his broad shoulders. He was clean-shaven, and when he smiled, he looked more like an earl than the common traveler she'd spent the last days with. She almost missed his rakish, dangerous look.

But then it was back as he looked down her body. She spread her arms and twirled for him.

“Am I presentable?” she asked.

“No, which is how I like it.” He sighed. “You know what I want to do to you in that bed, but there are things we must discuss first.”

Nodding, she took his hand and led him over to the small table where she'd placed the tray. They sat down and she uncovered it to find selections of cold meats and bread, a pudding and fresh fruit.

But Julian didn't begin to eat, only sat back wearily in his chair and looked at her.

“How is your uncle?” she asked.

He shrugged. “The doctor doesn't think he'll ever do much of anything again, though he doesn't think he's in danger of dying at the moment.”

“I don't understand.”

“It's as if his mind was damaged from the blow. He'll be bedridden for as long as he lives. The doctor doesn't even know if he's conscious, if he even understands what's going on around him. He can't quite explain how my aunt was able to do such damage.”

Rebecca sighed. “It's his own prison, in a sense.”

He gave a half-smile. “You have the right of it.”

“What about your aunt?”

“She doesn't seem to remember much of it. Now that I know the extent of her illness, she'll be under constant guard in her own wing of the house.” He parted the loose collar of his shirt and lifted the Scandalous Lady. “I'll have a paste copy of this made to soothe her. It's a shame my uncle never had the same thought.”

He looked so contemplative and sad that Rebecca went to him, sitting in his lap and looping her arms gently about his neck.

“At least everything went as you expected with the constable,” she said.

“You answered his questions well. He was impressed.
He agreed to try to keep the details of the crime as quiet as possible to protect my young cousins, but with the newspapers desperate for scandal, there's only so much that can be done.”

She nodded, letting her fingers touch the hair at the back of his neck. “Is it my turn to speak now?”

He gave a faint smile. “Always.”

“I am so grateful to you.”

She saw his gathering frown, and she covered his mouth before he could speak.

“No, listen to me. You cannot blame yourself for the events your uncle set in motion, so you must promise me you'll stop. Promise?”

At last he nodded, and when he began to nibble her fingers, she smiled and pulled her hand away.

“I'm not finished, so you must stop distracting me. I am very grateful to you because you trusted me to help you capture your uncle. You could have sent me home—you would have found the money—but you treated me as a partner. That doesn't happen much between men and women. You've changed, you know.”

He rolled his eyes.

“The old Julian would have done everything himself.”

“I did try.”

“You did, but you compromised. And I appreciate it more than you know.”

“Can I speak now?”

He adjusted her so that she faced him from her place on his knees.

She grinned. “Very well.”

Solemnly, he said, “I love you, Rebecca.”

Her smile faded and she found herself blinking, stunned and suddenly near to tears. “Julian—”

“No, just hear me out.” He touched her hair, her arms, then took her hands. “I love your bravery and optimism, your joyful sense of adventure.”

She couldn't let this go on. “Oh please, I've been nothing but childish, as if life is one big amusement meant for me. I had no idea how much anger I still had inside me. I'm not owed something special because of what was dealt to me in childhood. So many others have it worse than I did, and yet they bravely go on with their lives.”

“And so did you, my darling.” He squeezed her hands. “You helped me to see that my own anger was strangling me. I
was
living in the past by not forgiving. You were right about everything. Let me make it right. I love you, Rebecca,” he said again, and there was joy in his deep voice. “Would you consider marrying me even though I'll never hunt artifacts in Egypt or explore a jungle?”

She smiled as the first tear rolled down her cheek.

With his thumb, he wiped it away, then spoke softly. “Live for the future with me, darling. You can't live
like you might die. You're too strong for that.”

She had to sniff then, as even more tears made an appearance. “Oh, Julian, I love you, too.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if he'd still had doubts.

“I'll marry you,” she said. “And I'll even settle for a honeymoon in Italy—for now.”

He laughed and hugged her tight, then lifted his head to look into her face. “Even the great paintings of Europe can't hold a candle to you.”

She watched him cautiously. “Does that mean you still care about the wager with your friends over the painting?”

He reached beneath his shirt, lifted the Scandalous Lady over his head and draped it about hers. “I've already won the best prize of all, your hand in marriage. Although it will be interesting to hear how Peter and Leo do against such worthy opponents as Elizabeth and Susanna.”

“We'll just have to discover the details later,” she said, leaning close until her forehead brushed his. “We have far better things to do with our time.”

Their eyes met, his grin faded, and his lips met hers. She had her entire life to explore the natural wonder that was Julian Delane.

L
ady Rosa Leland did not understand the change that had come over her daughter, Rebecca, since her return from visiting Aunt Rianette. Her cheeks were flushed with too much sun, and she seemed to be humming all the time, kissing her parents at odd times of the day and for no reason at all. She'd come so willingly to the ball this evening, that Lady Rosa almost asked if someone else had replaced her daughter.

Rebecca, who'd taken much care with her toilette for hours during the day, left her mother's side immediately after being announced. She seemed to be looking for someone, and Lady Rosa watched her move through the crowd and nod at friends without stopping to speak.

“Who is she looking for?”

Lady Rosa glanced at her husband, seeing the confusion in the hazel eyes that so matched their daughter's. “I wish I knew.”

While they watched, Rebecca came to a stop, her face in profile, her expression full of joy as she lifted a hand in a slight wave.

Gaping, they followed her line of sight, and there stood the Earl of Parkhurst, who seldom came to the London balls. Lady Rosa gasped, expecting him to coolly nod, or perhaps look as confused as she felt. What was Rebecca thinking? Lady Rosa had seen his distant reaction to her matchmaking efforts just a few weeks before.

Instead, the earl paused on catching sight of Rebecca, and the smile that came over his face softened his harsh features.

“Will you look at that,” Randolph said in a low voice.

The two young people moved toward each other, ignoring everyone they passed. Rebecca took his arm, he leaned over to say something to her, and then they both crossed the ballroom and went out the terrace door.

“Good lord!” Randolph said.

Lady Rosa could barely find speech. And then she saw Lady Parkhurst, the earl's mother, who'd obviously seen the same thing they had, for her mouth was agape in wonder. The two women looked at each other, and Lady Rosa experienced the first moment of hope.

She turned to Randolph. “Do you think—?”

But he was already striding away, frowning, heading for the terrace.

“Oh dear, Randolph, perhaps we should wait,” she called, walking quickly to keep up with him.

“Not after what I saw.”

Lady Parkhurst joined them, breathless, just before they left the ballroom. “Professor Leland, please do not look so concerned. My son would never do anything to harm a young woman's reputation.”

“There's a first time for everything,” Randolph said firmly.

He pushed open the French doors, and the two women followed helplessly in his wake. There in the shadows, not far from the door, they found Rebecca kissing Lord Parkhurst, held tight in his embrace. Lady Rosa gasped.

The young people broke their kiss, but Lord Parkhurst boldly kept his arm around Rebecca. Couldn't he see the way Randolph stared at him?

Rebecca's eyes widened. “You're all here! How perfect!”

At least that made Randolph pause, Lady Rosa thought in relief. Her husband folded his arms across his chest, waiting.

Lord Parkhurst grinned—and never had Lady Rosa seen such a happy expression on such a sober young man.

“Professor Leland,” Lord Parkhurst said, “I was planning to speak with you in the morning, but now I won't have to wait.”

Lady Rosa took her husband's arm even as Lady Parkhurst began to sniffle happy tears.

Rebecca giggled. “He's asked me to marry him, Mama. And he's given me this as an engagement present.”

Around her neck was a heart-shaped diamond that glittered in the torchlight. Lady Rosa felt confused, for she thought the jewel looked familiar. Didn't her daughter already have something like it?

But then Lady Parkhurst cried out. “Julian! Is it really…?” She covered her mouth, as if she could not continue to speak.

Julian nodded. “It is, Mother, and I promise to tell you the story of its recovery. But not now.” He looked back at Professor Leland. “I'm in love with your daughter, sir. I would like your permission to marry her.”

Lady Rosa felt tears sting her eyes at the way Rebecca looked at the earl with such adoration and love. She'd worried that Rebecca would never find a man she could respect, one who'd love her in return.

“This is rather sudden,” Randolph said.

But Lady Rosa knew by his voice that he was already pleased with this turn of events.

The earl cleared his throat. “I didn't know how much I would miss your daughter until we were parted.”

Rebecca blushed as she looked up at Lord Parkhurst, still held against his side, her hand resting with a bit too much familiarity on his chest.

Oh dear, Lady Rosa thought, biting her lip, trying not to blush. Lady Parkhurst was already blushing enough for both of them.

Then the two older women looked into each other's eyes and shared the unspoken relief of mothers who know that their work is done, that at last their children have found love.