Libertine's Wife (56 page)

Ty left him then. Caspian returned to
sit at his pianoforte, overwhelmed to meet his older brother at
last. He’d made it his business to know everything he could learn
about the notorious Marquis of Ravensford. The man was not a
disappointment.

Caspian fought the surge of admiration
he’d begun to feel the minute the man walked into the room. The
stories didn’t do him justice. He even had the same facial
expressions as him. He reflected the marquis was someone he’d very
much like to know, even though they came from two very different
worlds.

For years he’d tracked the marquis,
secretly applauding the man’s thumbing his nose at society, living
his life as he would. His exploits and antics were the stuff of
legend, even on the wrong side of town.

Caspian idolized the man from the time
he learned they were related by blood, felt a sense of pride every
time he learned of his half brother’s successes on the dueling
field. He grinned in pleasure, thinking of his own skills in
killing. Some things were just in the blood.

Ravensford was said to be a crack shot,
unbeatable by many estimations. It was no wonder Thaddeus Dench
chose to avoid meeting his brother head on. It was obvious
Ravensford intended to kill the man if he found him.

He could see his older brother didn’t
try to deny he was as much the libertine as his reputation
suggested. Caspian grudgingly respected the man for having such
little pretenses. He made no excuses or apologies for his
lifestyle. That was something he could relate to very
well.

Caspian frowned to think that all the
illusions he harbored of Geoffrey Spencer all these years were just
that, illusions. His whore of a mother had lain with the nobleman
only one night for coin. She got with child from the encounter. She
could never get by the man’s wily solicitor to approach the marquis
for funds for his care and gave up eventually.

As far as he knew, Geoffrey Spencer
never learned he had a son born from his night in a White Chapel
whore’s bed. His mother always told him his father was a great man.
Seeing the look of coldness in his brother’s eyes made him question
again whether he preferred his illusions.

He’d fix his older brother’s matter for
him. Not because he felt a duty towards him. Not because they
shared the same father. Not even out of some sense of brotherly
concern.

Dench threatened a woman who meant
quite a lot to him. Those feelings were as new to him as the
realization he was even capable of them. Dench’s men thought
nothing of killing a woman. Their leader did whatever it took to
make the money. Thinking of the raven-haired beauty he was hired to
protect made him sigh for the fiftieth time that day. But that was
another story entirely.

Arianne rolled over to find her husband
missing from his side of the bed. He stood naked in front of the
fireplace. She frowned, knowing the threats kept him awake. She
slid out of bed and donned her robe.

Garret jumped at the light touch of her
hand on his arm. “You have to rest, Garret,” she said firmly and
pulled him with her back to bed. “You can solve nothing this
way.”

He allowed her to lead him back to bed
and held her contentedly under the covers. Suddenly his hand
reached out and covered her abdomen, just beginning to swell
slightly. “When did you plan to tell me you carry my child again?
Is this a game you play with me, my sweet? I have seen the signs
for weeks, Arianne. You forget this would be number ten for me, if
Helms knows his facts.”

She sighed and snuggled to his side. “I
didn’t want to burden you with the news, knowing how much stress
you’re under, my love.”

“
Knowing your condition
pleases me, my love,” Garret said and held her tenderly, his hand
stroking her belly thoughtfully. “We are having a girl this time. I
must insist on it.”

Arianne giggled. “I think that’s
something neither of us can control, Garret.”

He grew quiet for a few moments. “I’ve
had much to think about these last weeks. This is my fault…what is
happening to us now. Because of the way I lived my life…if I could
but do it over—”

She sighed and tensed as he stopped
short of apology, knowing he was riddled with guilt. “Garret, I
don’t hold it against you. Why do you torture yourself this
way?”

“
Had I been a better man,
I’d not be dealing with the consequences of the life I led.” He
stared up at the ceiling; brooding the matter.

“
You can’t go back, my
love,” Arianne commiserated and her hand reached up and smoothed
the hair falling over his brow. “I seemed to recall you told me
mistakes were to be learned from. Regret doesn’t change the past
for any of us, my love.”

“
My past mistakes could cost
me you and the children, Arianne,” Garret fumed and closed his
eyes, unable to bear her compassion. “Don’t let me off the hook as
you always do! You always do that! You accept too damned
much!”

Arianne glared at him and sat up, her
eyes flashing in anger. “I love you, Garret! What would you have me
do? I have to accept these things in your past. Raking you over the
coals for it now gets us nowhere. When this is all over, you can be
the best man you can be.”

Garret rolled over and captured his
wife, tumbling her over onto her back, staring down at her with a
twinkling gaze. “You claimed me perfect earlier.”

Arianne smiled despite herself.
“Everyone is open to improvement, my love.”

“
In what ways do I need to
improve? Can you show me?” Garret’s eyes glowed as he lowered his
head and found her sensitive breasts. “Now is the time to take me
to task, my love.”

“
You need no improvement
with
that
!” She
squealed as he tugged on her nipple with his teeth. Her sighs grew
dreamy as his lips lowered, descending quickly to a place that
begged for his touch. “You need no improvement
there
either, my love.”

Arianne watched him sleep much later
and snuggled to his side, studying his handsome face in repose. Her
heart ached to see him torture himself like this; even though a
part of her thought he deserved to feel some of the backlash for
his previous life.

He needed humbling now even it if
tormented him to face such demons. Though he had brought much of
their troubles unto them, he vowed to end this continued threat of
Thaddeus Dench.

He refused to discuss whatever he
learned about the man who stalked them. Thomas Helms played mum as
well, avoiding her since their mysterious errand. She would have
done anything to know what the men discussed behind closed doors
these days.

The horror of Lady Denham’s tragic
death overshadowed much of the gaiety within the ton. The gossip
was rampant. The only positive was that the scandal surrounding
them was pushed to the wayside.

The guards surrounding their residence
were a grim reminder Thaddeus Dench remained vigilant in his quest
to kill her husband. She didn’t argue with Garret when he insisted
she be accompanied by guards dressed as footmen everywhere she
went.

She shivered and drew closer to him,
holding him as he slept. Thinking of losing him by some tragic
twist of fate made her bite her lip. She could only pray whatever
plan her husband had to deal with Thaddeus Dench worked to end the
constant overhanging doom that dogged their daily lives.

The children were sent to Ravenhurst,
his estate near Brighton. The estate was under guard as well. The
children were doing well by all accounts, and thought the travel to
their father’s other holding in the dark of night great fun. They
were under the care of two stern governesses Garret hired. Mrs.
Wheeler and Mrs. Pease were no nonsense and had a firm hold on them
all.

He waited until Dench was dealt with to
send for them. She was eager to leave London, each day dragging by
and leading to an unknown end. It was made worse by her condition,
making her more irritable as the days passed.

Her nerves seemed poised on a hair
trigger now, waiting for the pendulum to swing the other direction
and come crashing down on their lives. Garret avoided talking about
the matter. He seemed to have accepted his past was coming for him.
She was determined to beat back those demons, if only to save him
from the man he once was.

Garret had changed, she knew. Gone went
the mistrust, the detachment, and his desire for other women. He
was devoted to her, determined to be the best husband he could be.
He promised her that and much more when she came back to him. The
irony of it made her weep to know the unforgiving ghosts that
haunted their lives didn’t see it.

~ ~ ~

Caspian Roth grew bored sitting on the
wall, watching the house. He jumped down to explore his brother’s
elaborate gardens. He smiled when he plucked several roses for his
lady, sniffing them appreciatively before he put them inside his
coat. It was nearly midnight, and soon he would go to
her.

He sighed, her name not far
from his lips.
Catherine.
Even while surveying his newest assignment, he was
beset with longings for his beautiful minx. He planned to take her
away when his brother’s matter was resolved.

Ravensford’s dilemma was far easier to
solve than hers, he knew. He knew who haunted his older brother’s
life, knew the face of the man who meant to kill him. Not so with
her. So many more players mucked up the matter.

Still, this dual assignment reminded
him of what kind of man he might have been. Being born on the wrong
side of the blanket never bothered him until Catherine came to mean
so much to him. Meeting his half brother didn’t help.

He sighed to think of Ravensford’s
wife, angelic and blonde, perfect really. The woman seemed to
compliment his older brother well. He watched the pair walking in
the gardens at dusk, watched him chase her into the maze. He knew
what they did there that hour they lost themselves within
it.

Ravensford was all that he should have
been, could have been, and wasn’t. He faced that now, pushing aside
his own self-loathing. He was much like his brother in some ways.
He made no excuses for his life, lived as he would, with little
regret. He determined he’d leave the matter of their shared
paternity to himself. The man didn’t need to know his half brother
was a criminal.

Caspian smiled as he plucked another
rose for Catherine. These thoughts of her made him want to change,
be more than the heartless killer he was. Meeting his brother
changed him somehow. Loving Catherine made it impossible to not
want more than this life he lived.

His expression grew shuttered to think
of losing her one day. It seemed as inevitable as her matter being
resolved. Dench’s men were dispatched one by one as they came after
her. Now he guarded his brother from the same men. He took
satisfaction in knowing he had something to offer them
both.

Envy didn’t quite name the feeling he
felt to meet Ravensford finally, take stock of all he was denied by
an accident of birth. The uncomfortable tightening in his chest
began long before he met Catherine or his brother.

The restless dissatisfaction he felt
was evident in all things in his life now, even his beloved music.
Only change would ease the raging beast within him that demanded
more for him than he dared to ask for himself.

Ravensford changed, hadn’t
he?

After his brother resigned
himself to being married, he was practically tame now. Perhaps so
could he? Thoughts of
her
made him want to, need to. Love encouraged such
thoughts, making it impossible to breathe without the
other.

A part of him ached to take what
Catherine offered him now and run with it. The other faced a demon
far more sinister that warned it would do him no good to run for he
would lose her.

Caspian pushed away his melancholy
thoughts, eager to meet his lover. She waited up for him, leaving a
candle lit in the window to signal her servants were abed, her
household asleep. He glanced back at the house he guarded nightly,
relieved to see two of his men enter the gardens to take
over.

Ravensford need not worry tonight. He
had his matter well in hand. If Dench’s men arrived in the dark of
night to avenge their leader, they’d find his men waiting for them.
Such was his routine since taking the contract.

So far he’d dispatched a half dozen of
Dench’s men between his brother’s home and Catherine’s residence.
He knew he couldn’t be in two places at once, content to leave Ty
watching over Catherine while he was watching over his older
brother. It would all end soon.

~ ~ ~

Arianne waited in Lady Cosgrove’s
salon, annoyed by the old woman’s delay in joining her. She finally
got up from the settee with the intention of seeking out the butler
when a tall blond nobleman entered.

Arianne knew at once the man had to be
Martin Devere, her husband’s best friend. She smiled as he came
forward. She frowned then, realizing Garret was under the
impression the man was in Virginia until the spring. A feeling of
unease was felt to see his startled expression to see her there,
looking guilty for a split second.