Scoundrel (Lost Lords of Radcliffe Book 4) (28 page)

Ralston had to begin searching for a job. His inquiries at his prior place of employment revealed that his old boss, Mr. Fitzwilliam, was presumed deceased. His heirs were closing down the business so Ralston’s position was ended.

But he was an optimist and thought his brothers might help him find a new post. Chase assumed it would occur. Ralston led a charmed life with tons of kin to guide him through the rough patches.

Chase just had his sister, Amelia, who was now married to that bounder, Lucas Drake. He’d called on Lucas’s brother, Aaron, figuring Aaron could tell him where Amelia was living, but Aaron was out of the city, his house shuttered. So Chase had written to Lucas’s father, Lord Sidwell, hoping he could provide Amelia’s address, but Sidwell was an ass so the chance was very high that he wouldn’t respond.

In the meantime, Chase was dropping comments everywhere, apprising others he was back, asking them to inform Amelia if they saw her, but so far he hadn’t located her.

He downed his whiskey, then poured himself another and as he seated himself again, Ralston spun around.

“I miss Rowena,” Ralston said. “I miss Sister Faith and the girls. Don’t you miss them?”

“Of course, but it’s pointless to mope over it.”

“It was horrid of you not to say goodbye.”

They’d plowed this ground on several occasions, and Chase wouldn’t dig in it again. He shrugged. “I hate goodbyes.”

“Faith seemed particularly upset.”

Chase glanced away and studied his liquor. “I don’t know why she would have been.”

“What happened at the coaching inn when she dragged you off for your private talk?”

“She had a bee in her bonnet over some little issue. You recollect how she was. She wanted to harangue at me about it.”

“You were awfully upset too when you returned to the carriage.”

“Why would you think so?”

Ralston assessed Chase in that annoying manner he had, as if he recognized each of Chase’s faults, as if he felt duty-bound to act as Chase’s conscience.

“Rowena told me an interesting detail about the two of you.”

“If that irksome girl pondered me for a single second, she obviously had too much time on her hands.”

Ralston was undeterred. “She claimed you and Faith were in love.”

“I can’t imagine where she’d come by such a spurious notion.”

“You were swimming with Faith.”

“Yes, I was.”

“And…?”

Ralston stared so intently that Chase was reminded of a headmaster he’d once had, and Chase couldn’t abide such powerful scrutiny. He sipped his drink, transfixed by the liquid in the glass, but he didn’t open his mouth to remark. If he did, all sorts of hideous drivel would flood out and he didn’t dare voice any of it.

He was so despondent!

He’d abandoned Faith without a moment’s hesitation because he’d been convinced it was for the best. She’d been seduced by the possibility that he was different from how he really was, and he’d briefly bought into her fantasy.

It had been despicable to ruin her. He’d known better, but had proceeded anyway. For a few fleeting minutes, he’d actually believed his own promises. But the cold light of day had yanked him to his senses. He couldn’t marry her, and he’d been a fool to pretend he could.

“We were just swimming, Ralston. Let it go, would you?”

“I suppose you consider it’s none of my business.”

“It isn’t.”

“If you love her, why don’t you fight for her?”

Chase remembered how she’d slapped him, and he wasn’t bothered by it. He’d deserved the blow. He’d been a total ass to her, but he’d behaved repugnantly on purpose. He’d wanted her to detest him, had wanted her to be jolted into accepting reality, but oh, how it hurt!

He missed her. As with Ralston, he and Faith had been thrown together in an exotic, exciting way. Their adventure had created an attachment that was deeper and more profound than he’d deemed likely with a female. They were completely connected, and it seemed wrong for them to be parted.

“I don’t love her.” At telling such a bald-faced lie, he flushed with shame.

“You don’t? Then why are you staggering about like a man who lost his last friend?”

“I still have you.”

“Yes, you lucky dog, but think how grand it would be to have Faith too!”

“I couldn’t have supported her, Ralston.”

It was the first and only time he’d confessed the relationship, and he was shocked to have blurted it out. Nothing good could come from such an admission.

“So…you were fond of her,” Ralston said.

“Very fond.”

“Are you prepared to let her walk away?”

“Yes.”

“You’re an ass, Chase Hubbard.”

The insult was spot on, but Chase bristled with offense. He gestured around their apartment with its tattered rugs and worn furniture. There was a sitting room and two small bedchambers. That was it.

“This is all I had to offer her.”

“She’d have snatched it up in a heartbeat.”

“Yes, she would have, and then she’d have grown to hate me.” Chase scowled. “Did you ever talk to her about her family?”

“No.”

“Her father is a wealthy merchant. She was raised in a mansion filled with servants. She’d have suffocated in my world.”

“Or maybe not. Wouldn’t it have been worth the gamble to find out?”

“She’d have been so miserable. I couldn’t bear to contemplate it.”

“Idiot,” Ralston mumbled. A fraught silence ensued, then Ralston said, “Well, just so you know, I love Rowena.”

“I thought so.”

“The minute I secure a new post, I’m bringing her to London so I can marry her.”

“What if your relatives don’t approve?”

“Why wouldn’t they? Besides, it’s not up to them. As opposed to some people”—he glowered at Chase—“I intend to be happy for the rest of my days.”

“You imagine Rowena will make you happy?”

“I have no doubt.”

“I hope so, Ralston. I truly do.”

“Thank you.”

“When she comes to London, you’ll leave me to be with her.”

It was a whiny comment, and Chase was stunned to have uttered it. He viewed himself as a very manly fellow and didn’t have to beg his friend to remain close. They were simply so intimately bonded. Like brothers, only more than that.

Ralston shook his head. “I will never leave you. If you need to sleep on the sofa in my parlor, you will always have a place with me.”

“And if I ultimately learn I’ve inherited that fortune you mentioned, you’ll always have a place with me.”

“Let me get this straight.” Ralston snorted with amusement. “You’ll always have a place with me—even if I don’t have a farthing to my name. And
I
will always have a place with you so long as you’re rich as Croesus.”

“Yes, precisely.”

Ralston laughed. “Don’t ever change, Chase. You’d be boring if you became respectable.” He glanced out the window and said, “There’s my cab. Finally. I have to go.”

They stared, Ralston looking lost, Chase feeling abandoned, which was ridiculous.

“So go,” Chase scolded. “Don’t stand there like a ninny.”

“Will you walk me down?”

“No. You know I loathe goodbyes.”

“I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“Even if your mother cooks all your favorite foods and spoils you rotten?”

“Even then. I have to have a job so I can send for Rowena.”

“Ah…a man with a mission.”

“I’ll be happier than you.”

“You already are,” Chase said.

“I’ll be happier than you forever.”

“I’m sure that’s true. Now be off, would you? Your chatter exhausts me.”

Ralston grabbed his portmanteau. “Two weeks. Then I’ll be back. I swear it.”

“I’ll see you then. Have a safe trip.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, for bloody’s sake,” Chase griped. “Just go!”

Ralston gave a jaunty salute and strolled out. Chase listened to him bound down the stairs and he was whistling, being his usual merry self.

Chase considered peeking out the window, watching as Ralston climbed in his cab, perhaps waving like a smitten girl, but he refrained.

He abhorred maudlin sentiment, and he was definitely maudlin. He settled down in his chair and enjoyed his whiskey, pondering all that had happened, pondering Faith and how bitterly they’d parted.

Ralston’s remarks had stirred it up again, but Chase was mortified to remember how he’d behaved. Even if he was brave enough to visit Faith, even if he beseeched her to come to London to join him in squalor and subsist on his winnings from gambling, she’d never agree.

Why, if he showed up at the convent, she likely wouldn’t even meet with him and he’d deserve her scorn.

Suddenly a knock sounded on the door, and Chase chuckled and stood to answer it. He assumed it was Ralston, and without thinking, he yanked the door open.

“What did you forget?” Chase asked, but he stumbled to a halt when he realized that it wasn’t Ralston.

A short, stout man was there instead. He was tidy and clean-shaven, dressed in a neat gray suit, a bowler hat, a folder of papers under his arm. A lawyer or rich man’s clerk if Chase had ever seen one.

“Dammit!” he grumbled.

“Mr. Chase Hubbard, I presume?”

“Yes, you found me.”

The man weaseled his way across the threshold before Chase could shove him out.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Faith, darling! Hello!”

“Hello, Lambert.”

“Come in, come in.”

Lambert gestured for her to enter the front parlor, and she couldn’t help but sense that he was lord of the manor. He’d inherited her childhood home—called Heron Hall—and everything else too, the extensive farm, the warehouses, the shops in town.

Their positions had shifted, and for a brief moment she was galled by the change. But as swiftly as the emotion overtook her, she shook it away.

The world was not a fair place for a woman, and her father would never have bequeathed his estate to Faith. He’d been very traditional and wouldn’t have considered conferring title to a female. He’d offered Faith a chance to claim some of what he’d owned. He’d
begged
her to marry Lambert, but she’d refused. It was a little late to lament how Fate had dealt her a bad hand.

Though she was completely altered by her time away, she felt as if she’d never been gone a single day. She’d staggered in penniless, friendless, and with her father’s death, she was an orphan too.

Lambert escorted her to a chair and rang for a tea tray. As he seated himself, his smile was just as fake and as proud as ever.

The years hadn’t been kind to him. Previously he’d been slender and relatively handsome. Now he was balding and chubby, his stomach protruding over the waistband of his trousers, providing stark evidence that the cook at Heron Hall was still skilled, the food still delicious.

He was older than she was, thirty to her twenty-five, but he appeared much older. He was tall, five-foot-ten, but didn’t seem as big as he had prior. His shoulders were slumped so he no longer towered over her.

A maid entered with their refreshments, and Lambert relaxed and let Faith pour, which she didn’t mind. Before she’d departed for the convent, she’d acted as her father’s hostess so she was used to the role, and she relished the memories it generated.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived,” he said.

“It’s all right. Since I didn’t tell anyone I was coming, I could hardly expect a welcoming committee.”

“After the footman located me at my office, I rushed home.”

“There was no need to hurry, but I appreciate it.”

She was attired in her black dress, but she wasn’t wearing her wimple so she might have been a dour governess or perhaps a widow in mourning.

He pointed to her clothes. “Pardon me if I overstep my bounds, but you don’t look as if you’re a nun.”

“I never was a nun.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten. You never took your vows.”

“And I’ve decided not to take them.”

“Have you?” he mused. “What an interesting turn of events.”

“Yes, I can’t quite wrap my head around it.”

“When you first left, you were so determined.”

“I was an absolute boor about it, wasn’t I?”

“I’m too polite to call you a boor.” He smirked and sipped his tea. He was studying her curiously. “What brought about your change of heart?”

“I had traveled to Rome.”

“Yes, we heard that you had.”

“I encountered a few misadventures on the journey.”

“Nothing too horrid, I hope.”

“Nothing horrid,” she lied, “but once I was back at the convent, I simply felt so different that I couldn’t imagine continuing down that path.”

“Are you at Heron Hall for good? You intend to remain?”

“Yes, if you’ll let me.”

On the trip south, she’d occasionally panicked when she worried about her reception. She’d never warmed to Lambert, and they’d parted on bad terms. If he told her she couldn’t stay, what would she do?

But he relieved her enormously when he said, “Of course you can stay with us. For as long as you like.”

“Who is
us?
” she asked.

“Me, Alice, and her daughters.”

“I’ve been away for ages. You haven’t married?”

“No. I know you’ll find this difficult to believe, but I’ve never met a female whose company I enjoyed as much as yours. Plus I couldn’t bear to have another woman at Heron Hall when it seems to be yours.”

“It’s sweet of you to hold that opinion. I’m pleased that you’re still fond of me.”

“I’ve always been extremely fond.”

She couldn’t stand his shrewd assessment so she switched subjects. “Tell me about my father’s passing. Was he ill? Was it sudden?”

“It was very sudden. He ate supper one night, then collapsed as he was walking to his bedchamber. It was over very fast.”

“He didn’t suffer?”

“No, he didn’t suffer.”

“That’s good news, I guess.” She wasn’t sure how to probe for details so she decided to blurt out her question. If she was too indiscreet, he’d inform her.

“How did Father dispose of his affairs?” she asked.

“You mean with his Will and the estate?”

“Yes.”

“He left everything to me as he planned.”

“How about Alice? Was she given a portion or allowance?”