The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) (94 page)

“Don’t think on it. I’ll handle the duke if he needs handled, or I’ll have his future wife do so as I understand her to be able. Regardless, we won’t be arriving until the wedding, so he will have no time to complain before he is shackled and off to Italy or wherever they will be spending their first moon together.”

Lilly nodded warily.

“Now, we should look at your things. I’m sure your trunks have been settled in your new room. Shall we?”

Lilly curtseyed, then followed.

Auberry looked through Lilly’s wardrobe carefully, inspecting each of her dresses to determine what more she might need. “Perry did very well by you. I’ll need to find out who he sent for—her choice of colors was absolute genius, and the designs prevent too much scrutiny, are unpretentious, and frankly quite perfect for your figure.”

Lilly smiled. “I thought for sure I’d need no more garments for years. I still can’t imagine I need more now.”

Auberry returned the smile. “Well, dear, you will have to attend one or two higher functions, and if you attend the wedding, you will need a suitable ball gown, there is no way around that. We will procure you a few things, not much. Do you have a riding habit?”

Lilly shook her head. “I’ve never ridden sidesaddle. I wouldn’t know what to do. We have but the one horse back home, and one saddle to fit him, so if I rode it was astride. My pa never thought anything of it, of course.”

“Of course not, and why would he? There is no cause to, as the
ton
is much removed from the country. Truth be told, I much prefer to ride as the men do, though they would have conniptions if they were aware of it.”

“Lady Francine wears riding trousers,” Lilly said suddenly.

“Well, that is fabulous, I say. I am going to like that one. I look forward to meeting her. We, however, will have you fitted for a habit so as not to attract undue attention. There are ways of cutting them that will be comfortable for riding astride, perhaps a fuller skirt as was fashionable earlier in the century. People will hardly know you to be astride,” she said with a smile. “I’ll ask Perry about the seamstress. We’ll need to find different ways to use this color, but it is most categorically
your
color.”

Lilly smiled, but it fell far short of being genuine.

Auberry walked up to her and took her hand. “And how are you faring, my dear? It must be difficult to be away from him.”

Lilly looked up and nodded. “More so than I would have thought.” She shook her head. “When will he be allowed to visit?”

“When it is proper, he may call in the early afternoon, or with my permission, he may escort us to a ball. But as we discussed before, I’ll be turning him away for a time. I do regret that on your behalf, but it is in your best interest. It pains you to be away from each other, but the lesson learned in the separation is insurmountable any other way. Consider it the truest test of my nephew. Though I’ve not a doubt he is smitten, his true nature will out or, more prudently, we hope it will.”

“And what of his true nature? If he returns to his former life, then—”

“Oh, you misunderstand, my dear. That which he has done and lived and cultivated in the most recent past is not his true nature. It is his nature, as with all the Trumbull men, to find the one woman who will master him. The one woman to whom he will defer. I believe that woman to be you. Come to think on it, I am not surprised by you at all. Trumbull women tend to appear from the most unlikely of sources,” she said with a grin. “It appears to be a necessity.”

“And you, Your Grace? From where were you found?”

“I was born a Trumbull, though finding my own duke, well, that is a story we will dwell on at another time. We’ve much to accomplish. As for your lessons, you’ll need to watch me, for you will have the management duties of your own household soon enough, and you need to learn everything that entails. I’ve no doubt you are well versed in the basics of household management, but there are things you may not be aware of from the top end.”

Lilly nodded and felt instantly overwhelmed. Perhaps disappearing would be better for her as well as Perry. There was so much she didn’t know about being a member of the peerage. A member of the peerage… She shook her head. Who would ever believe this? Meggie would never believe. How was she to explain this to her sister?

“Damn time you showed your face,” Warrick grumbled. “You’d not believe who is in the back room.”

Perry raised a brow. He supposed he was delayed some, stopping by the shop to purchase a rather long strand of pearls. “Who might that be, and good day to you as well.”

“Hepplewort,” Calder said, folding the paper he’d been perusing and laying aside his cigar to stand and shake Perry’s hand.

Perry scowled and Warrick moved to his other side. He placed a firm hand on Perry’s shoulder. “We are not to have a scene at White’s, Trumbull—much too great a disservice to the place.”

“Also, should Hepplewort see you or me, or rather the two of us together, he’ll know what we’re about. Frankly, it came as a shock that he would show here,” Calder added.

Just then Warrick grunted and moved forward, pushing his cousins toward the wall. “Your lackadaisical attitude toward this man is going to find you both swimming in the Thames,” he growled. “Pay attention, at least.”

Perry moved around a set of four chairs to sit. Calder followed suit, both men facing away from the room and the entry. Warrick slid past them to rest in the chair with the best view.

“We should discuss how we are to proceed,” Perry said.

“How
are
we to proceed?” asked Calder.

“I’m not sure there
is
a way to proceed,” Warrick replied. “The man has been warned, and until he does something he shouldn’t, what are we to do? We cannot undercut Roxleigh’s plea to the House. It wouldn’t be the thing.”

Perry shook his head. “And so we wait,” he said angrily.

Warrick’s gaze shifted to the main door, then he nodded at Perry. “He’s leaving.”

Perry jumped up and turned to the door before Warrick or Calder could think to stop him. He rushed across the room, following the pudgy man from the building.

Hepplewort held a slovenly countenance that sent Perry’s hackles to standing. The earl’s eyes were buried deep in his folded face and his corpulent jowls hung far past his chin. He
would
be dressed nice enough—if he were a rakish fop in Louis XIV’s court. But since he wasn’t, and it wasn’t, his appearance merely served to turn Perry’s stomach.

He stopped outside at the base of the stairs, a smile slowly breaking his stern features as he imagined Hepplewort’s surprise upon seeing him. Calder and Warrick flanked Perry, not sure what else to do, and the three men waited patiently for the earl to turn and spy them.

“Get the damn carriage over here now. I asked to you hold it here. I wasn’t expecting to be here overlong!” Hepplewort spat at the attendant.

‘Of course, my lord, we had several arrivals. Your driver was merely asked to circle back to make room.”

“Ridiculous what this place has come to. Back in my youth the thought of moving an earl’s coach for the likes of some lower gentry was unheard of!” Hepplewort shouted.

“Pardon again, my lord, but truth be told, ‘twas these gentlemen here what displaced your coach, not the lower gentry.” The attendant motioned behind Hepplewort. He obviously hoped the sight of the Duke of Warrick, the Marquess of Canford, and Viscount Roxleigh would suffice to stop the man’s ranting.

It did.

Hepplewort turned to find the three men occupying the lowest step of White’s, every pair of eyes on him. He took a step back and nearly fell from the curb. “Why— Why, my lord, I—I—”

Perry cut him off. “I don’t believe you’re acquainted with my cousins as yet. Might I present His Grace, Grayson Danforth, Duke of Warrick, and the Most Honorable Thorne Calder, Marquess of Canford. Oh no, I beg your pardon. You have met Canford, have you not?”

“My lord, Your Grace, I—” He stopped himself, bowing deeply before the three gentlemen. When he stood he looked directly at Perry. “My lord, I understand you must be shocked to see me here in London. Might I explain? I was merely, uh—”

It was at that moment Hepplewort looked at Calder again, his eyes widening.

Calder smiled down on him. “Do tell, old man, what
are
you doing in London?”

Perry stepped down, drawing as close to Hepplewort as he dared come to his repugnant person. “It seems, my lord, that we have suffered a failure in communications. I was operating under the impression that you were not to return to London—ever. As you are here, I must have missed something. Perhaps you might be willing to clarify?”

“I, uh, well. Plainly, my lord, the duke has robbed me.” He stopped when Perry’s eyebrows rose. “I—no—the duke is to be happily married, and I am left to obtain a bride for the continuation of my titled lands as is required. I need to bear issue.”

“Hmm. Again, as I remember it, your line was set to die with you. You were not to take a wife or bear any heirs, and the title was to fall where it may, without your help. Did I misunderstand His Grace’s directive?”

“No, my lord, just that, well, you met my mother. She’s quite insistent that I take a wife and continue—”

“
You
will take
nothing
but your leave of this place. Is that understood?”

Hepplewort looked from one face to the next as he stuttered incoherently, trying to find his verbal footing. “Yes, I— Yes, my lord,” he said meekly as his carriage pulled up behind him.

Perry glanced up to find the same stout driver who had once been mastered at his hand staring down angrily. Perry walked to the box and yanked him down. The oversized man swung his arms, but Warrick pinned his hands behind his back, forcing him to his knees as Perry stepped back and straightened his jacket.

“You have been warned before as well. If you’ll not adhere to the warnings, not even that man’s title will be enough to save you from the gallows. Are you aware of that?” Perry ground out through clenched teeth.

“Yes, milord,” the man grumbled.

The scuffle was attracting the attention of passersby. Calder nudged Perry’s arm. “We should be moving on,” he said quietly.

Perry nodded and caught Hepplewort’s eye. “Leave London today and do not return. If I hear the slightest mention of you, anything Roxleigh had planned will be minor in comparison. I want you away from the people you have damaged.”

Hepplewort nodded as he crawled up into his carriage.

Warrick released the driver, letting him stand before pushing him toward the box and forcing him up.

The White’s attendant released the horses and the carriage rolled down the street. Calder nodded surreptitiously to a street urchin halfway down the block and the boy ran behind the carriage, grabbing the footman’s hold at the back and pulling himself to the step. He nodded to Calder as the carriage disappeared around a corner.

Perry looked back at Calder, who shrugged.

“What? You did request I keep track of him while he was here in London. I’d say I’ve done so admirably, wouldn’t you, Warrick?”

“Yes, quite,” Warrick said, nodding at Perry. “You know him best. Is he leaving?”

“No, he’ll be looking to complete his mother’s orders in any fashion he can. He won’t leave without a bride, which means we just moved up his deadline to tonight.” Perry glanced at Calder. “We’ll know where he’ll be this evening?”

“Yes, we should know of his plans for the afternoon within the hour, as well as the ones for this evening. I assume he’ll pick his attendance carefully, judging by where he believes we’ll be.”

“But we’ll be wherever he will be, which means—” Warrick looked at Perry and held his gaze. “—this will end tonight.”

Hepplewort stormed into his house, Morgan on his heels. “Damn him. Damn
them
.”

“Perhaps, milord, we should leave. Find you a bride on the way out of town.”

“I cannot. Mother would...I need an appropriate bride, a girl of the
ton
. I cannot just pick a girl from the road.”

“Yes, milord. There is the Grenvilles’ ball tonight. You did send word.”

“Yes, yes. Nasty bit of business, this. Hopefully there will be someone there.” He removed his hat and gloves and threw them at a chair, then shrugged out of his coat. When his arms were trapped, Morgan gave the capes a little tug to free him. He grunted his thanks.

“Fergus!”

Hepplewort froze.

“Mother.” His eyes widened at Morgan, not knowing what to do. She saved him the trouble of thought, as she usually did, and walked out of the parlor. He bowed deferentially, pasting a warm smile on his face. “Dear Mother, I wasn’t aware you intended to join me here. I—”

“Hush, Fergus. I considered how successful you were in bringing your bride home—twice—and determined I needed to be here to help.”

“Mother, I had plans. I do not need you here.”

“Don’t speak to your mother in such a manner. Now, as I am here, I will help. You must have plans tonight. What are they?”