The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) (42 page)

She stared at the grand façade of the town house. It dwarfed the others nearby; she could see it was the biggest on the square. She wondered if any of these homes were still standing, and felt a twinge of sadness. She tried to recall more of London’s history. She was hopeful the more she saw the more she’d remember, but she’d been a business major—not a history major—and hadn’t learned much more than the required world history. She once again wished she’d paid more attention in school.

She walked into the entry, smiling at the long row of servants as Gideon spoke with them. Ferry traveled with him, as did Grover, Smyth, and Riband, who’d stepped in as outrider while Gentry was away to retrieve the sisters. Francine appreciated having familiar faces around.

Gideon was speaking with a man who, she assumed by his dress and demeanor, must be butler of this residence. He seemed very severe, and she hoped she wouldn’t offend him. She had studied her book of manners, but nothing was simple. There were so many rules, and she didn’t think it would be a good idea to cross him. She suddenly missed Mrs. Weston a great deal.

Gideon approached her with a concerned look on his face. “Is everything all right, my lady?”

She nodded and glanced at the butler.

Gideon followed her gaze. “Oh, Sanders. He is an ominous presence but dedicated. Don’t let him frighten you.”

She looked into Gideon’s warm gaze and relaxed a bit as he continued. “As late as it is, Cook has prepared a small supper. It can be served in the main dining room, if you would care to join me.” He looked at Carole. “Of course, you could also join us, as chaperone.”

Carole blushed and looked down. Francine knew Carole was a lower servant, certain never to be more than a lady’s maid, and her station required that she be both unheard and unseen. Francine could see she wasn’t comfortable being pushed into this situation.

Francine glanced at him. “Your Grace,” she whispered.

His skin reacted to her voice, immediately flushing with the anticipation of her words. “Please don’t strain yourself.”

“I’m doing fine,” she whispered. “I think, after such a long trip, dinner in my room would be better. While I would very much appreciate your company, I am tired, and a formal dinner really doesn’t sound very enticing.”

He nodded, placing a finger across her lips to silence her.

She glanced at Sanders, who was peering down his long, straight nose at her proximity to the duke with a disapproving glint in his eye. She cleared her throat and spoke softly enough that she believed nobody else would hear her.

“Thank you for understanding, Gideon.” She kissed the finger at her lips and smiled up at him.

“Not at all, my lady. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said, and she proffered her hand. He took it firmly, gently kissing the exposed flesh of her wrist between her sleeve and her glove.

She sighed silently, her skin prickling as he straightened and turned, barking orders to no one in particular.

“Send a tray for Lady Francine—and Carole—to her room.”

Carole curtseyed and they turned to follow one of the housemaids upstairs as Gideon continued to command. “I shall also take my supper in my suite. Trumbull?” He searched for his brother. “Trumbull!” he yelled. “Where the devil’s he gone off to?” he said under his breath.

“Here, Your Grace,” Perry replied, walking from the study. “You yelled?”

Gideon rolled his eyes as the servants scattered. “I trust the handling of your ward is thus far satisfactory?”

“Of course.” Perry grinned. “Mind if I join you for supper? I’m fairly certain that my household won’t have anything prepared since they weren’t expecting me, and I’m usually not
in
for supper at any rate. They’re far more adept at breakfasts and luncheons.” He studied his fingernails.

Gideon grimaced. “Not at all. Sanders!” he bellowed before realizing the butler was just behind him.

“Supper for two in the study, Your Grace?”

Gideon nodded.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Gideon’s skin tingled and he looked up the stairs just in time to see Francine disappear around the corner to the first floor suites. He and Perry retired to the study, Gideon filling two snifters with brandy and sitting at his desk. “How long are we to put off the inevitable?” Gideon asked, warming the brandy between his palms.

Perry looked up at him in confusion.

“Hepplewort,” Gideon ground out.

“Ah, yes.
That
.” He sighed heavily. “That bit of ugliness can stay put off forever, as far as I’m concerned.”

Gideon lifted a brow. “I see. So you want me to post the banns and have Hepplewort learn of it from a Society rag and bring a public claim?”

Perry grunted. “We haven’t yet discussed it and no, I don’t suppose I do. I imagine we should leave before the week is out. But I need some time in London first. We should at least get our bearings before wandering off again.”

“Bearings.” Gideon chuckled. “Agreed. But not
too
long.”

Francine rose early, hoping for a chance to wander London playing tourist. She had breakfast on the rear terrace over the gardens, wishing someone would join her, but nobody came. She walked back to her room after breakfast to retrieve a book, thinking she would take it outside. The town house was different from Eildon; it was lonely. Trumbull, of course, was at his own town house across the square, and Shaw was on the other end of London, working. She was alone save the servants, who were ghosts, and Gideon, who was nowhere to be seen. The servants were detached, more professional. They only seemed to be there when she needed them, and they weren’t the least bit comforting.

She grabbed
Dante’s Inferno
, thinking it was a good day to peruse the multiple circles of Hell, and she walked out across the large terrace and descended the wide steps to the garden bench on the lawn below.

“Where have you been all morning?” came the familiar baritone just as she’d given up hope. Carole strolled behind Gideon, then stopped to stand close to the French doors.

Me?
she signed.

He nodded, pointing at her.

She smiled—she couldn’t help it, but she did her best to twist it into a stern glare.
I have been here. Where have you been?

He smiled in return, descending the steps.
I’m sorry, I had some documents. But now I am all yours. What would you like to do?

She beamed.
Will you show me London?
I’ve never been.

Carole shifted from one foot to the other, looking around uncomfortably.

I would love to show you London,
he replied, then held his hand out to her.

She took it, rising from the garden bench.

He turned. “Carole, will you prepare a luncheon basket? Perhaps we can picnic in Hyde Park.”

Carole nodded and skittered through the doors, happily released from her discomfort.

Francine laughed. They hadn’t behaved in an indecent manner, but Carole always seemed so nervous.

They took the town carriage to Marylebone, across the Thames to Westminster Abbey, then to Charing Cross near Whitechapel.

“Whitechapel.” Her eyes grew wide as they passed through the bustling inner city sprawl. “Jack the Ripper.”
Glad I didn’t wake up as a prostitute
.

“What did you say?” Gideon questioned as he watched her.

“Nothing,” she whispered.
Do you know 221b Baker Street?
she signed, looking at him hopefully.

Gideon shook his head and knocked on the roof, bringing the carriage to a halt. “Grover, are you familiar with 221b Baker?” he called out the window when Grover leaned down.

“Pardon, Your Grace, I believe Baker Street numbers don’t pass the first ‘undred, but we can drive it on the return to Roxleigh House.”

Gideon turned back to her and she smiled as she shifted her gaze to look out the window.

He waved the carriage on, wanting to know everything she was thinking, but loving the mystery of her expressions.

Carole shrank into the opposite corner of the carriage, determinedly watching out the windows. She wished she were at Eildon, at the town house…anywhere but here. The duke and Lady Francine were so powerfully connected, she could feel them communicating without raising a hand, or parting their lips. It seemed very untoward and she understood, explicitly, the duke’s need for a chaperone. She could only hope they would marry soon, and leave her be.

With the Duke of Roxleigh in residence the
ton
came in droves to visit. Gideon stayed true to his reputation and did not respond to the callers. The rumor mill buzzed, since this was already the most anticipated London Season in years. Gideon’s interest in finding a bride had generated most of the gossip, but the fact that he had yet to attend a second Society function and appeared to be off the market had the
ton
in a right frenzy.

After the Greensborough ball, the rumors were thick with presumptions about Lady Alice Gracin, who had been occupied throughout the night of her coming out with the Duke of Roxleigh and Viscount Roxleigh. That they both disappeared shortly thereafter, without a word, staunched the stories and stumped the gossips. Even Perry’s rakish cohorts had no idea where he’d gone off to, or why. Nobody knew what to think and everyone was rife with anticipation for their return.

Gideon and Francine spent the mornings and evenings together—dining, reading, and riding. He didn’t linger over her wrist, and she didn’t gather herself close to whisper, both behaving as perfect models of propriety around the servants, much to Perry’s approval.

Francine was disheartened by the recovery of her voice, since she was now able to speak at a more easily heard level and the intimacy gained from whispering was becoming lost to her. She often reverted to sign language to recapture the closeness she missed with the duke, but even that private conversation, within the boundaries of a public setting, was still frowned upon by many.

“It is time we made our way to Hepplewort’s estate,” Gideon ground out from behind his desk.

“Indeed,” Perry answered.

Francine knocked at the door of the study. Gideon and Perry had been holed up in there all morning, and she was bored. The brothers rose as she entered.

“Lady Francine, what can we do for you today?” Perry gave her a smile and a quick bow.

She shook her head. “I just came to say hello.” she said quietly.

“Your voice is getting stronger,” Perry said, and she smiled and nodded.

She walked over to the desk and settled in the chair next to Perry as Gideon sat back in his large desk chair, watching.

“We were just discussing some business that we must attend to,” he said.

“Business?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Yes, we’ll be leaving late tonight,” Gideon said, noting how her expression fell. “But we’ll return before your sisters arrive,” he added quickly.

“Then we can move to Westcreek Park, where you’ll no doubt be more comfortable,” Perry said, expecting her to be excited.