Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (6 page)

"Never fear, Master Nick. The earl's fine. There's no trouble that I know of, but he wanted you to have this sharp like."

Nicholas took the bulky letter, arranged for the groom's comfort, and then excused himself from his friends. Hodges might not know of any trouble, but he knew there must be something afoot.

Nicholas regularly sent letters home to keep his brother acquainted with his location, but only twice had his brother sent a missive to find him in his wanderings. Once had been to announce his wedding, for which Nicholas had managed to return. The second had been to announce the death of his wife and child. Nicholas had returned as quickly as possible but had not reached his twin until two months after the event.

In fact, he had known without asking Hodges that Kit was healthy. They always knew of physical problems with one another, as twins will.

In his room he broke the seal and began to read.

Dear Nicky,

I must ask you to return to England as quickly as possible. You did say last time you were home, that you would marry could I find you a suitable woman, one who would not bore you with inanities or expect you to dance attendance on her. Well, I have done so. Eleanor Chivenham has all the qualities you would wish for, I am sure. You may remember the family. They lived at Chivenham Hall, near Burton Magna, not far from Grattingley, though the estate has been sold by her brother, who is inclined to extravagance.

Nicholas knew rather more than that about Lionel Chivenham and wondered what the hell his brother was about trying to ally them with such an unpleasant specimen.

The fact of the matter is that Eleanor Chivenham is in a rather difficult position, having lost her virtue while living in her brother's house. (That's no surprise, Nicholas thought.) The problem is that I seem to have been responsible.

Nicholas had to stop and read that part again. He was beginning to recognize the rambling style that was characteristic of his brother in deep trouble, looking to him to find a way out. It was just that this particular trouble seemed unbelievable.

I am not quite sure how it came about, Nicky, but they got me to Chivenham's house, and with the wine and, I suspect, something else, I wasn't able to refuse when they suggested I take the woman. There were certain doubts cast upon my inclinations. But I didn't know it was his sister.

Then the next day I was only just in time to stop her from killing herself, so I am looking after her for you.
(Nicholas sighed.)

You know I can't marry her myself, but you won't mind, and women always seem to like your company. She was a virgin, Nicky. Besides, if she is unmarried, she will be in danger from her brother or Lord Deveril, who appears to want to marry her. You will be able to handle them. And there's the possibility of a child, who would, after all, be a Delaney.

I really think it is essential that you marry her, and I am sorry to have to say this, but I will cut off your allowance completely if you do not comply. The honor of our house is at stake. If you can be at Newhaven on the 29th or thereabouts we will meet you there, and the ceremony can take place quietly but immediately. I have already inserted a notice to the effect that you have married in France, in case there should be a child, you see. So don't be seen about too much without her, if you see what I mean

Your loving brother, Kit

Nicholas Delaney closed his eyes in disbelief. Even for Kit this was a ridiculous handling of an incredible situation, and it couldn't have come at a worse time. Then he shrugged, read the letter again, and threw it in the fire, watching carefully to see it was thoroughly burnt. As he watched the flames he thought, Lionel Chivenham's sister! He'd never heard of her, which was a good thing, he supposed. He wondered how old she was, what she looked like. Kit had neglected the details.

He could refuse, of course, and simply take off for a distant part of the globe. The financial threat didn't bother him, but the fact it was made at all told him how desperate his brother was. Kit had never even hinted at such a thing before, not even when he'd been trying to get Nicholas to stay at home.

However, it wouldn't suit him to go traveling again just now. He had to go to England very soon to take up the business that had started with Richard Anstable's death.

He rubbed a hand down his face. God, what a mess! He knew, however, he would not be able to resist Kit if he was really set on this course. He had developed the habit early in life of extracting his twin from his problems. Besides, he loved him.

Shaking his head at the ironies of life, he sat down to compose his reply. He hoped his famous prowess with women would prove up to the demands about to be put upon it...

Chapter 3

In later years, Eleanor could only think that it was shock that enabled her to survive the waiting period so calmly.

She lived quietly at the hotel under the name Mrs. Childsley, only venturing out on occasional walks in either her coal-scuttle bonnet or a veiled hat. Lord Stainbridge visited frequently and brought journals and books, but she still had too much time to think, too many unpleasant dreams when she slept, and too much opportunity to have doubts. By sheer determination she refused to entertain them. She had made her decision. She would be under Lord Stainbridge's protection and her husband would be mostly overseas. It would work.

Finally the day came for Eleanor to climb into Lord Stainbridge's luxurious traveling carriage for the journey to Newhaven. Her principal feeling was one of relief. She felt as if she would almost have been as relieved to be going to her execution, only to be on her way, to have it done.

As the four horses pulled the carriage smoothly into motion, Lord Stainbridge turned to her. "I hope you do not mind leaving the maid behind, my dear. I felt it better that servants be as little involved with this as possible. She will hopefully never know Mrs. Childsley did not exist."

"No, Lord Stainbridge, I do not mind. I am not accustomed to a maid in any case." Eleanor was pleased with her level tone.

The earl smiled his approval. He seemed very relaxed and in command of the situation. Quite different from when she had first met him. "Good. Now, I have heard from my brother and he will be arriving at Newhaven this evening, as arranged. The weather seems clear, so there should be no impediment. He enclosed this for you."

Eleanor took the sealed package with surprise. The package was not large but obviously contained a small, hard object. As she broke the seal and opened the paper, she felt a frisson of alarm. Suddenly her husband-to-be was becoming a reality, and the pretty emerald ring she found in the package made him more so.

The note was simply addressed in beautiful, flowing penmanship to Miss Eleanor Chivenham. It was a strong, decisive hand—not what she would expect from Nicholas Delaney. The letter was short and simple:

Dear Eleanor,

You must know I share all your feelings and anticipation at the thought of the ceremony to come. L can say no more. Please wear the small gift enclosed as a sign of your kindness towards me. Soon I will have the right to give you much more.

Nicholas Delaney.

An ambiguous and possibly alarming note, but Eleanor realized it could be read as expressing great devotion. It was undated, and if it was seen by anyone it could not gainsay their supposed relationship. This forethought, and the style of the letter, conveyed a sense of the man that would have been comforting if it had not been so unexpected.

She read it through again. This time, however, a note of antagonism, of reluctance, seemed to predominate in the letter. She considered the ring. Plain gold with a simple faceted emerald. Why did its quality seem to speak clearly in counterpoint to the letter? From a simple man this ring would have been a great gesture; from the earl it would have been close to an insult. From his brother it seemed to state clearly a precise degree of concern and obligation.

It was surely ridiculous, however, to think Nicholas Delaney had expended such thought on the matter. He had doubtless purchased the first adequate ring he could afford. She should be pleased he had bothered.

"That is a charming ring," said Lord Stainbridge.

Eleanor looked up to realize he would dearly love to know what was in the note. She almost passed it to him, but some notion of loyalty to her future husband stopped her, and she folded it neatly to put it in her reticule.

"Your brother is very thoughtful," she said.

"I'm glad." The earl sounded relieved.

"Your brother is willing, Lord Stainbridge?" Eleanor queried. She had to know. This was all bad enough without a resentful husband.

The earl flushed. "What has he said? Of course he is." The note of bitterness that so often touched his comments about his brother returned. "I assure you Nicky never does anything he does not wish to. If he wanted to avoid this marriage he would simply have left for the antipodes and not returned for years."

Eleanor gave up her questioning and responded instead to the pain she heard in his voice. "You would rather he stayed at home, my lord, would you not?"

The earl sighed. "Indeed I would. For one thing, it would be safer here. He leads a charmed life, but he is also like a lodestone for trouble. One day his luck will fail. When he tells me stories of his exploits I cannot see the glory, the adventure, but only the risks. It is painful. We are, after all, twins, and there is a bond."

"Does he not feel this bond also?"

"It would appear not," he said bitterly, and the conversation lapsed.

Eleanor looked out of the window. There were signs of spring all around—lambs in the fields and new growth on the trees—but spring was late after the exceptionally harsh winter, and the air was chill. She was grateful for the woolen rug wrapped so tenderly around her legs by Lord Stainbridge and wondered if such consideration would be a part of her new life.

What a creature of contrasts her husband-to-be was! An adventurer with beautiful handwriting; a wanderer loved by his family and friends; a clever man who could become a debauched ravisher.

She suddenly thought of Fox, the brilliant politician and thinker who had gambled himself into destitution and had rarely let a day go by without becoming insensible through drink. Men were strange creatures indeed.

After a journey of five hours they pulled into Newhaven as the sun was setting. The carriage, its lights shielded, was drawn up away from the inn a little, behind a nearby cottage. Lord Stainbridge assured Eleanor this was by his brother's instructions.

"You must not be seen before the boat docks, you see. Nicky will have thought of everything."

Eleanor found this fond belief in his brother's omniscience rather irritating, but before she could comment the earl disappeared to see whether the boat was close to shore.

He returned a moment later. "The packet is in sight, my dear. Perhaps ten minutes, little more. Will you be all right here by yourself? The coachman and groom will stay with you, but I should be visible, as I am supposed to be meeting Nicholas and his wife."

She assured him he could leave her and then sat in the gloom, bolstering her sagging courage. She even wished for a moment she was back in her dreary room in Derby Square. Despite the discipline she applied to her mind a slight tremble began, and it was not from the cold. She bit her lip and pressed her hands hard together. She would not start this marriage in weakness.

She tried to imagine their first meeting. What did one say to a man in such a situation? How could she pretend to be a wife of some weeks with a perfect stranger?

Not quite a stranger, she reminded herself.

Suddenly the door swung open and Lord Stainbridge extended a hand to her. "Come along, Mrs. Delaney."

Only as she stood beside him on the cobbles did she realize it was not Lord Stainbridge but his brother.

There was no time to think. Arm around her waist, he hurried her over to the inn and swept her into the stream of passengers pushing into its warmth. A moment later she was being introduced to Lord Stainbridge. She was amazed to find no restraint between the brothers, only a playful affection. She resented it and frowned at the man beside her.

She realized then that it was Nicholas Delaney who was setting the tone, who was orchestrating this performance. For all that nobody seemed to be interested in their affairs, he was acting his role perfectly, and his brother, uneasily, was following his lead.