Revenge Wears Rubies (37 page)

“A lovely party, wasn’t it, dearest?” Mrs. Shaw asked as they settled inside the carriage.

“Lovely.” Haley wasn’t sure that an evening listening to Mrs. Greeley outlining the errors Lord Kendall had made in arranging the card tables as he had qualified as “lovely,” but she couldn’t muster the strength to complain. She was numb and exhausted after another night of pretending that she hadn’t a care in the world.

“Lovely!” Lord Moreland agreed sarcastically. “In light of a sad lack of entertainment for a man who has neither the coins to gamble nor the comfort of a good glass of brandy, I’d say it wasn’t too painful.”

“Alfred, please!” Alice reached for her fan. “If you’re going to mope at every turn, you could at least make yourself useful and see about a rich widow or two! I’m not clear as to why all the pressure is on poor Haley to marry us out of this stew! You’re the one who got us into it. It only seems fair that you be the one to find a rich wife and take a quick march down the aisle!”

“Like hell!” he sputtered, then turned to Haley. “Any interesting prospects, dearest?”

“No, Father.”

“Well, I don’t think you were looking too hard. For you’ll never guess who I saw this evening!” he said, ignoring Alice, who was rolling her eyes in the corner.

“Who?” she asked, trying to play along, a ghost of a smile on her face as she became aware of Aunt Alice’s antics.

“Mr. Hawke!” he announced. “You remember him, don’t you? I was sure I saw his name on several notes in the hallway and—”

“Out of the question!” It was Aunt Alice’s turn to sputter. “Alfred, you’re to have nothing to do with the man!”

Haley felt a wash of ice-cold air lash through her body at the sound of his name. “Mr. Hawke was . . . at Kendall’s?”

“He was, indeed, and made a point of speaking to me,” Lord Moreland said. “Frankly, I like the man. And although I’m no judge in these matters, he seems easy enough on the eyes, and I can make an inquiry or two into his finances to see if—”

“No! Alfred, please!” Alice was beside herself at the prospect.

“Father, please.” Haley’s softer plea commanded his complete attention. “I would rather that you didn’t.”

“Then can you tell me why?” he asked just as softly, and Haley thought her heart would break all over again at the gentle look of sympathy in his eyes. “Why are you sending back this man’s notes and flowers? I know I’m generally thought of as too incoherent to pay attention to these things, but sober, I’m noticing quite a bit these days, Haley.”

Haley shook her head. “I can’t say why.”

“Very well.” He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes suspiciously and studying the pair of them. “You realize I could very well just assume the worst and call the man out!”

“First of all, dueling is illegal, and I can’t remember the last time you shot a gun, drunk or sober.” Alice challenged him with an arch look and put her fan down. “And secondly, how is your subsequent suicide going to help the situation? And thirdly, if your assumption is off, which in this case,
it is
, Margaret will at last meet you in heaven with the ultimate confirmation that you are a fool! And if she doesn’t throw you off for some other dead soul who displays more sense, I’d be shocked and disappointed in the justice of the afterlife!”

“Aunt Alice!” Haley gasped in shock, and her father just sat in stunned silence as the sound of the horse’s hooves on the pavement was the only noise to be heard for the space of at least ten seconds.

Finally, Lord Moreland once again turned to his only child. “
Is
there something the patriarch of this family should know?”

“No!” both women replied simultaneously, but Haley recovered first, leaning over to take her father’s hand. “Please, Father. If you ever loved me, please don’t ask again. You must simply trust me to know what’s best in this instance!”

He cradled her hand in his, and finally nodded. “I do trust you, Haley. So, we’ll leave off the subject for now, and I’ll do my very best not to send off for pistols at dawn or scare off any of your suitors.”

“Thank you.” Haley relaxed against the seat, wishing they were already home so that she could give in to her tears. One mention of
his
name and the spiral of memories was paralyzing. She pulled the fur around her cloak’s collar a little closer and buried her nose in the softness. She hated the weak part of her that wanted to ask her father what they’d spoken of, or if Galen had asked after her.

What difference did it make what Galen said? Why do I care about a man who hates me enough to draw me as a whore for all the world to see?
Her breath hiccupped as a new realization crept over her.
I am my mother’s daughter. Once I was in love, I never saw anything else around me, and I lost all sense of logic and reason, just as she did. And no matter what Aunt Alice says about getting your heart back again and again whenever you wish, for me that will never be true. Because I’m my father’s daughter, too. And we only love once in a lifetime.

And at that, the tears wouldn’t wait.

Chapter
24

Galen reread the note again, reeling at the quick turns of fate and folly that could bring any man down without warning. He’d been in the middle of trying to come up with an excuse not to storm Moreland’s brownstone and refuse to leave until Haley forgave him when the messenger had come with the terrible news.

It didn’t seem possible that Trevor was dying. The last time he’d seen him they’d gone riding, and spent an entire day talking of nothing, as only brothers can. He’d left for London knowing that no matter what else happened in the world, Trevor would never change. And he had never wished him to.

But now the carriage was waiting and he could hear Bradley banging around the house coordinating his sudden and immediate departure for the country to sit vigil and wait for the unthinkable.

He’d sent word for Michael, asking him to come urgently, but the clock began to chime and Galen accepted that he’d run out of time to—

“Your note said it was life and death.”

Michael stood in the doorway, and Galen was too grateful to ask how he’d managed it. “I’m leaving London.”

“Is it anything to do with Miss Moreland?”

Galen shook his head then felt the refusal fade.
Doesn’t everything now have to do with Miss Moreland? Isn’t that why I summoned him?
“My brother is ill and may be dying. I’m praying that my father is overstating how serious it is, that he wrote his note in a state of unwarranted worry, but . . . I have no choice but to go home.”

“I’m sorry, Galen.”

“Thank you.” He took a slow deep breath. “Trevor has always been one of the heartiest men I’ve ever known. I have to believe that this is a false alarm, but I cannot risk staying away. Not even when things in London are so . . .”

“Unfinished?”

“
Unsettled
was the word I would have used.” Galen crossed his arms. “I was the worst cad to her—and for not a single reason that mattered! John did love her, but . . . they were literally children together and he never said a damn word after the age of thirteen to that girl! I tried to destroy her because John had a boyhood crush!” He began to pace, self-loathing coating every word. “I misunderstood it all, and then wouldn’t listen to anything you said to try to ward off this unbelievable disaster! And now, before I can convince her to see me or even speak to me—damn it! The timing couldn’t have been worse, Michael.”

“Things can always be worse, Galen.”

Galen smiled. “Ever the optimist!”

“Look on the bright side,” Michael played along. “With you out of Town, our friends from the Company will just have to bother someone else for a while.”

“So long as it’s not Miss Moreland!” Galen retrieved a small leather packet from his desk. “Here, Michael. These are invitations to a few parties where I’m certain she’ll be.”

Michael’s hand had automatically extended to take it, but with the words
invitations
and
parties
, his fingers froze midair. “You cannot be serious! I’m a soldier, not a gentleman to sashay about dusty drawing rooms and play parlor games.”

“I need you to keep an eye on her, and even speak to her if you can. I don’t want her to think I’ve simply abandoned her without cause, Michael.”

“So send her a note! Tell her your brother is ill! Tell her you’re sorry! But for the love of God, don’t make me attend a string of fussy tea parties!”

Galen pressed the envelope into his hands, folding his own fingers over Michael’s to guarantee that there would be no misunderstanding. “I’ve sent a dozen notes and emptied three flower shops to no avail, and now I’m out of time! I’m not asking you, Michael. I’m begging you to do what you can on my behalf until I can return.” The muscles in his jaw flexed, the humiliation of the request outweighed by the pressing urgency of his heart. “Please do this for me.”

Michael took the packet and slid it into the inside pocket of his coat. “I will. But I’d have been happier if you’d proposed kidnapping her.”

“We’ll make that our next plan of action if this one doesn’t work.” Galen smiled in spite of himself. “Thank you, Michael.”

Michael left without preamble, aware of the pressure on Galen to depart immediately. And within moments, the time had come to go.

“All’s ready, sir. It’s a private coach all the way, so you can make great speed on the roads as best you can,” Bradley advised as he helped Galen with his coat. “Cook packed a basket, so you won’t suffer on that account, she says.”

“Give her my thanks for her thoughtfulness, and . . .” Galen took a deep breath. “I can’t think of anything else.”

“Your hat, then.” Bradley held it out. “Good journey, Mr. Hawke.”

“Thank you, Bradley.” Galen turned to go and then stopped for a moment, his own reflection in a small mirror on the wall catching his eye. He stared at the stranger staring back at him.
Love should leave a mark. That’s what I told her, and by Jove, I believed it. But that man . . . that man doesn’t look as if he’s let anything touch him in a long time.
Galen walked over to his reflection.

“Sir?” Bradley followed him, confused at the sudden halt in his employer’s momentum. “Are you all right?”

But his reflection mocked him, and Galen finally turned away from the mirror. “I’m fine, Bradley. I just don’t think I’m ever again going to judge another human being by their face or their appearance for as long as I live.”

“Very good, sir,” Bradley replied, a little mystified as he watched Galen head down the steps and into the coach to disappear into the fog like a ghost.

Chapter
25

“Are you wearing that?”

Haley had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from saying anything inappropriate in response to such an impossible question. They were already late, and she’d taken particular care in choosing a dark blue satin gown that showed off her figure. Her father’s temperament was deteriorating quickly, but Haley knew it was directly related to the mounting pressure he was suffering from their debts and creditors. He was trying to keep her from the worst of it, she suspected, to assist her in keeping a calm and more attractive demeanor on her hunt for a suitable husband. “I am, Father.”

“I liked the red,” he said in a surly tone. “You look like your mother in the red.”