Lord of the Rakes (2 page)

“You see what this means, Fi? I can leave. I can leave anytime I like. I’m free.” This was the first time she’d said these words out loud and they felt rich and delicious against her tongue.

“Yes, but . . .”

“But what?” Now that Caroline had broken this last silence, the fact of her freedom began to fully blossom within her. She had laid up a wealth of dreams and plans during the lonely years since Mama’s death. But any possibility of escape, no matter how modest, had lacked a single ingredient—money. Now the money was hers—all she could ever need and more.

“Jarrett’s still Earl Keenesford,” Fiona said uncertainly. “No matter how great an heiress you are, he could make terrible trouble for you, if he chose.”

“Then I’ll go where he cannot reach.” Now that the doors of Keenesford Hall were thrown open, every other point in the world seemed within equal reach. “The Continent. Vienna. Switzerland. Florence. Oh, Fi! I’ve always wanted to see Florence, and Paris, of course.”

“But, not alone, Caro,” said Fiona, plainly striving for a practical tone.

Caroline waved this away. “Mrs. Ferriday will come with me. She’s already said she would.” In fact, it was Mrs. Ferriday who had been taking Caroline’s letters to Mr. Upton to be sent by hand from the carriage house in the next village. “She’s a second cousin of Mama’s. That will do for the proprieties.”

“Not for long, Caro. You don’t know how the London matrons love to tear a newcomer down.”

“But I won’t be staying in London,” Caroline reminded her. “After your wedding, I’ll be going to Paris, and past it.” What had been a dim possibility a moment ago now appeared to be the ideal scheme. “I’ll be free of Jarrett and any London matron who might want fresh gossip. No one will know who I am, and no one will care. I’ll have money enough. I can do anything. Be anything.” Tears were rising in her eyes. “Oh, Fi, Mama told me I’d have the freedom she never did. She just couldn’t say how it would come to me. She had to keep it secret. And by the time I was old enough to understand, she was too ill.”

Fiona looked wary, clearly not convinced, but her natural high spirits were rising to the surface. A smile spread across her face, and Caroline could not help but grin in return. “Caroline, this is going to be marvelous! Think on it. You and I together in town at last. I’ll introduce you to absolutely everybody. You’ll have parties and balls, and you’ll be able to get
married
 . . . !”

“No.” Caroline spoke the single word with absolute decision.

“What?”

“I will never marry, Fiona. That much has not changed.” Caroline had made up her mind to this years ago. Part of her decision had come from watching her mother’s decline in a loveless marriage to a titled man. The rest had come from the round of country house parties she’d lived through. She’d spent too much time listening to matrons who talked of their children like a dealer talked of horses. If any cement was needed to fix her decision into place, it was created once Jarrett started inviting what few friends he had to the house to dinner. Those gentlemen were clearly being invited to inspect more than just the new guns her brother had purchased.

“But, with independent means, and a life in town . . .” Fiona was saying, but Caroline shook her head.

“If I married, I’d be entirely in my husband’s power. I am determined, Fi, that I will not be controlled by anyone again, ever.”

“But . . . you can’t mean to live without love, Caro. Or, well, passion.”

Caroline met her friend’s concerned gaze without flinching. “Why should I have to do without passion?”

“I don’t understand you.”

“If I am never going to be married, then there’s no need for me to remain a virgin.” She might be an aging spinster in the world’s eyes, but she was far from an innocent. She knew perfectly well why some men went sneaking down the corridors at night during their stays at certain houses, and she knew why the women who were not their wives opened doors. More than once she had looked on some of the youths and men who vied for the attentions of the girls with less watchful relations. She’d wondered, if she had been alone, and if it was her door they knocked on, would she open to them?

But, clearly, she had passed the limits of Fiona’s daring. “Caro, are you mad?”

“No, I am speaking quite coolly. I am free. Absolutely and completely free. Why should I not enjoy all that freedom allows?”
Including the freedom to open the door, to say yes to whatever one I choose . . .

“All right, Caro. You’ve had a great deal of excitement. I’m going to make some allowances.” For a moment Fiona looked exactly like her mother at the height of her displeasure. Caroline decided now was not the time to mention the resemblance. “But when you’ve had time to think, you will understand what you’re suggesting. There are
plenty
of words for that sort of woman. ‘Adventuress’ is the most polite.”

Caroline knew Fiona was only trying to look out for her best interests, and now was most definitely not the time to argue this particular point. “I’m sorry, Fi. And I’m making a mess of your happiness, and I don’t want that, not when I’m able to be your maid of honor after all! And I might need your help. I’ll need to rent a house in London, and Mrs. Ferriday doesn’t know the town. And this Mr. Upton . . . he can be my man of business, but I don’t know him personally, so can’t rely on his judgment for this. You could help us find a good place, couldn’t you?”

“You know I’ll do anything I can to help you. And so will Mother and Father, of course. And Harry . . .”

“Oh, no, Fi. You mustn’t tell them. At least not yet.”

“Why on earth not, Caro? When have they done anything but try to help?”

“I know, I do. But . . . they are such good people. They’ll wish for me to try to reconcile with Jarrett. They might even, quite accidently, of course, delay things . . .”

Fi nodded solemnly. “I do understand, Caro. Very well, I’ll tell no one if that’s what you want.”

“Just for now. If all goes well, I’ll be in London in plenty of time for the ceremony, and once you leave on your wedding trip, I can take my own leave for the Continent and never have to worry about Jarrett, or anyone else ever again.”

But still Fi seemed hesitant. “Just . . . just don’t do anything reckless. Give yourself time to get used to your circumstances. Money and freedom and London can be a strong combination.”

Having Fi turn so uncharacteristically cautious stung Caroline harder than she would have believed possible. “Fi, I never expected to hear you agreeing with Jarrett.”

“Say that again and I will have to be cross with you, Lady Caroline. I’ve been out for three seasons. I’ve seen more than one girl let London go to her head. You might be free, but you must be careful.”

“Or I’ll fall into the coils of this Lord of the Rakes you keep talking about?”

“I don’t keep talking about him,” replied Fi with a fine imitation of being piqued. “I mentioned him exactly once. But yes, Caroline, you might fall for him or someone like him and then—”

But Fiona was unable to finish her sentence. Heavy footsteps fell against the hall carpet and an even heavier hand knocked at the door. Caroline sprang to her feet again, and just in time she thrust her letter into Fiona’s hands. A bare heartbeat later, the door opened, and Jarrett Delamarre, Earl Keenesford, walked in.

T
o Caroline, Jarrett had always borne a striking resemblance to a bachelor rooster; sharp-beaked, too thin, and forever out of temper. That likeness only increased when he was caught with his thin-lipped mouth open, as it was now. Jarrett might be willing to walk in on his sister without the least sign of permission, but the sight of Fiona Rayburn on Caroline’s sofa drew him up quite short.

Fiona, with an air that managed to combine both absolute propriety and complete insouciance, rose to her feet and curtsied.

“Good morning, Jarrett. Or, I suppose I should say ‘your lord-
ship.’”

Jarrett shut his mouth, and made the bow courtesy required. “Miss Rayburn,” he replied coolly. “I was not informed of your arrival.” He looked at Caroline and she could see him silently blaming her for this oversight. “I came to tell Caroline we are expecting Lewis Banbridge for dinner.”

“Very well, Jarrett,” said Caroline. “I’ll make sure Cook knows.” She was amazed at how calm she sounded. As if Jarrett’s blatant disregard for her privacy and her friend were not enough, the news that she must endure the company of Mr. Banbridge once more for dinner heaped yet more strain on her worn nerves.

It doesn’t matter,
she reminded herself.
Nothing matters anymore except that I can at last make my escape.

“I was given to understand you were still in London, Miss Rayburn,” Jarrett was saying to Fiona.

“I have only just returned.”

“Fiona is engaged, Jarrett,” put in Caroline. “To the future Baron Eddistone.”

“Well.” Jarrett filled that single word to the brim with acid. “A step up for you, is it not,
Miss
Rayburn? I imagine your parents are pleased.”

“Because wishing her joy would not be the first thought that occurred to one,” muttered Caroline, even though she knew she should keep quiet. She had a moment ago begged Fiona not to anger Jarrett. But when she heard him again dismiss her best friend for being only wealthy rather than titled, silence suddenly felt like too much to ask.

Caroline took a deep breath. She was tottering on a precipice. It was possible Fiona’s upcoming wedding might provide the easiest avenue for her longed-for escape. If Jarrett could be persuaded this once to be reasonable, she could go directly to London and make all the necessary arrangements herself once she got there. “Fiona came to ask me to be her maid of honor for her wedding.”

Jarrett’s dark eyes slid again to Fiona. “She’s being married from Danbury House, then?”

It was Fiona who answered. “No. From London.”

“Out of the question,” he said immediately. “Caroline should already have told you as much.” Then he turned his back on them both.

Fiona stepped forward, even though Caroline raised a hand to caution her.

“I had hoped, Lord Keenesford,” said Fiona, imparting just the tiniest hint of her own vinegar to flavor the title. “As it is my wedding, and our families are of such long-standing acquaintance, an exception might be made in this single instance.”

“I said no, and there’s an end to it.” Jarrett didn’t even turn around.

“Jarrett.” Caroline struggled to keep her voice under control. “It’s the wedding of my best friend. I will be in her house with her family. I’ll be as chaperoned as a child. No one in the world would think twice about it.” She paused, and added, “You could make the trip with me, to assure yourself that all was right.”

When Jarrett turned back, his anger was plain to see. But he did not shout. That was not his way. If there was anything her brother abhorred more than London, it was any sort of scene.

“Will you excuse us, please, Miss Rayburn? I need to have a word in private with my sister.”

“No,” replied Fiona with equal calm. “If there’s a genuine reason Caroline cannot attend my wedding, you may say it to me directly.”

“It’s all right, Fi,” said Caroline. I’ll speak to Jarrett privately.” This quarrel was, first and last, between her and her brother.

Fiona nodded, and retired through the study’s side door. Keenesford Hall was built in an older style, with the second-floor sitting rooms connected to the bedchambers.

Once the door was shut, Caroline faced her brother. Unfortunately, Jarrett chose that moment to rake his fingers through his sandy hair, making the whole mass stand up on end, and only increasing his resemblance to a starved and ill-tempered bird.

“All right, Jarrett, it’s only the two of us now,” she said, although she was positive Fi had her ear pressed tight against the door. “Once and for all, why may I not attend Fiona’s wedding?”

“You have neither the morals nor the temperament to withstand London. It will wreak havoc on your nerves, and you will be prey to every fortune hunter and title hound.” He spoke the words with a sort of weary anger, as if he had said them a thousand times before. Which, in fact, he had. “I swore to Father on his deathbed that I would keep you safe, just as he kept our mother safe. I will keep that oath.”

“Jarrett, do not do this. Let me go. It’s not as if Fiona’s going to . . . introduce me to the Lord of the Rakes or any such. Her mother—”

“Is entirely too permissive, as is the daughter,” snapped Jarrett. “The fact that she even knows of such a creature as Philip Montcalm proves that.”

And how on earth did you come to know who I’m talking about?
wondered Caroline sharply. But she did not pursue it. She must not let herself get distracted. “You forget, I am of age now. I may come and go as I choose. I am asking out of respect and courtesy to you as my brother . . . and guardian.” She said it because it was the truth as Jarrett saw things, even though the words all but burned her tongue.

But Jarrett was not in any way soothed by this acknowledgment. “Certainly you may come and go as you choose, but I remind you, Caroline, you have no money I do not give you. If you leave this house, you will do so in nothing but the clothes you stand up in.” He stalked forward. Jarrett was taller than she was, and he did not hesitate to loom over her when he thought she needed to be cowed.

For a moment she wanted to shout at him, to wave her letters under his nose and create exactly the sort of scene he despised. But she did not. Despite everything, Jarrett remained her brother and she wished desperately things might be different between them. She forced herself to remember him as a boy. She remembered the time he’d pulled her puppy, Toby, out of the mud where he’d gotten stuck. Then there was the time he’d found the book she’d lost before Father could notice it missing. Most precious of all was the memory of how he’d backed her up as she spun a story to Father of how she and Fiona had been out on a charity visit, when he knew full well they’d been down to meet the mail coach, and a package of forbidden French novels.

“Jarrett, please. This is important to me.”

For a moment memory flickered behind Jarrett’s hard eyes, and Caroline dared to hope. But memory vanished and Jarrett stalked forward to stand a bare inch from her. He hadn’t shaved yet this morning. The sunlight glinted on the stubble sprouting from his sharp, straight jaw.

“Don’t fight me on this, Caroline. We neither of us chose this fate, but I will do what I must to keep my oath to our father. As my unmarried sister, you remain under my authority.”

And there it was. The last word. At least, it always had been before.

“I was under your authority while I was under age and without independent means,” Caroline told him. “That has changed. In fact, it changed four years ago, when Mother died and left me as beneficiary of her trust.”

When strong emotion took hold of Jarrett, he paled. As Caroline spoke, his entire face from the roots of his disordered hair to his plain black cravat turned pure white.

“Who told you?” he demanded. “Who?”

Caroline had hoped for some sign that Jarrett had not been complicit in keeping this secret from her, but that hope now vanished like snow in summer. “So. There it is. You lied to me, Jarrett.” She tried to keep the hitch out of her voice, and failed. “You meant to go right on lying to me in order to keep me prisoner here, just as Father did Mother.”

“Mother blinded you with her misguided fairy stories about London and fashionable life. Turned you into her little tonnish doll. You haven’t a thought in your head she didn’t put there!”

Rage and fear set Caroline trembling. She opened her mouth, unsure whether she meant to scream, or cry.

A true lady never lets a man see what she really feels.
Mother’s words came back to her just in time.
A true lady faces the world with absolute calm and courage, no matter what the provocation.
Caroline drew herself up straight and proud, and made herself look directly into Jarrett’s shadowed eyes.

“What you think of me and the contents of my mind no longer matter, Jarrett. The fact is, I have ten thousand a year in my own name. I came of age a month ago and I have the absolute right to spend any or all of that income exactly as I see fit.”

“You have nothing,” Jarrett dragged the words out between gritted teeth. “A wife’s property belongs to her husband. Anything else is legal trickery. Those land leases were properly Father’s, and are therefore now mine.”

“Then take me to court, Jarrett.” It was amazing how cool those words sounded as they left her. “Let us take our business before the bar of the law and sort it out in public. I’m sure only two or three of the papers will carry the news of Earl Keenesford suing his own sister to keep her from her inheritance.”

Jarrett recoiled as if she’d struck him. Caroline tried to feel some sort of triumph, but all she felt was weariness.

“Well then, since you have the means of your own destruction in your hands, you’d better go to it, hadn’t you?” Jarrett’s soft certainty was more dreadful than any shout could have been. “But do not think I will stop trying to keep you from destroying our family name. One of us at least must remember duty.” He turned and started for the door.

Let him walk away,
Caroline counseled herself. Be a lady and remember your pride and appearance.
Do not stop him if he wishes to retreat.

But she couldn’t, not even now.

“Jarrett, I don’t want to leave this way. I . . .” Her eyes stung and she had to bite the rest of the words back.

Jarrett did not let her finish. “You don’t want to leave this way? Then don’t. If you go up to town, all they’ll see is a sheltered, spoiled, naive girl with too much money and no idea what to do with it. The men will take your money and your honor, and they will
laugh
at you.” For a moment Caroline thought she saw real concern in Jarrett’s eyes. He laid his hand over hers, a gesture of brotherly affection he had not made in years. “Please, Caro. Don’t go. Let me see you safe.”

“You mean let you control me.”

Jarrett jerked his hand away. The traces of concern she’d seen a moment before vanished behind the solid curtain of his anger.

At the sight of it, Caroline felt all her doubts vanish. If they took a portion of her hopes with them, she must let that go. “I will leave Keenesford, Jarrett, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Nothing I can do to stop you,
yet
.” With that, Jarrett marched out of the room.

Caroline stood where she was, her heart hammering from fear and defiance. She heard Fiona push the bedroom door open behind her, but she did not turn.

“Not yet and not ever,” she said to the closed door, to Jarrett and Fi and the whole world. “I will not be controlled again, not by you, or society, or a husband, or this Lord of the Rakes, or anyone else. I am Lady Caroline Delamarre. I will go where I choose and be exactly whom I choose. I am free!”