Too Hot For A Rake (27 page)

Wednesday, the Twentieth of May, 1818
Waverley Castle

Waverley barked a laugh with a twinge of bitterness when his grandmother finished speaking. “Short of holding a pistol to his head, I don’t quite know what to do with what you’ve just told me about the duke’s past.” He had dismissed the footmen after dinner and they were alone.

The dowager reached for a sweetmeat. “Do? There’s only one thing you can do, my foolish child. For one, stop acting like a schoolboy mooning over the loss of his first love—especially since you’ve already had the pleasure of such an experience—and begin behaving like you ought. Remember that you are the Fourth Marquis of Waverley. In short, stop your pouting and start acting like a man.”

“I’ll do anything you say, Grandmother, but I won’t hurt Helena by ruining her reputation. I love her with my very soul and I know she loves me. You see that, don’t you? But I’m in despair and my mind is empty of solutions. You must advise me, Grandmother. I’m counting on you.” Something in her countenance raised his spirits. “You have a scheme in mind, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. That gives me hope.”

The dowager leaned forward and patted his hand. “Are you prepared to follow my advice?” When he nodded, she continued. “You will leave for Bodmin Castle tomorrow morning. If I’m not mistaken, that scoundrel is on his way there already.”

“Why? What reason would he have to go to Bodmin?”

“Tony Fairchild cannot face life without his wife at his side. It isn’t in his nature, especially after…never mind. They’ve had a row over this business. Depend upon it. The duke will crawl after her with his tail between his legs, so to speak.”

“Grandmother!” he said as if shocked. But there was laughter in his eyes.

She grinned. “You are about to meet my godchild. When you do meet her, you will understand. Tonight I shall write a letter to my goddaughter and tomorrow you shall deliver it to her in person. It will be all the ammunition that you’ll need to shoot that rogue in the neck, believe me.”

Waverley could not contain his elation, for she had lightened his heart of the burden of sadness he’d carried with him all the way home from London. “I’m so blessed to have you on my side, dearest. Not only as a grandmother, but as the very best of friends.”

She made as if to rise, and he rose to help her. “Thank you, Desmond.” She raised a finger and said, “One more thing before I retire to write my letter to Ellen. The wedding must be performed right here in your ancestral castle. Insist upon it when you enter the lion’s den. I know that scoundrel will try to bully you, for he cannot help himself, but you must stand firm in order to earn his respect. If you don’t stand up to that tyrant now, you will come to regret it later. He’ll ride roughshod over you if you let him. He may be a duke, but you are a marquis, and don’t you forget it. There. I’ve given you enough ammunition in your arsenal to challenge him with.”

“Will you not come with me, dearest?”

She patted his arm and smiled. “No. You must fight this battle on your own, my dear. Be brave, be firm, be proud and all will be well, I promise you.”

Mevagissy: Bodmin Castle

Helena’s spirits rose with the unexpected arrival of the Marquis of Waverley. She had confessed to her mother only the night before her fear that she might be in danger of losing him. He might return to the life he’d lived in Paris. She’d seen firsthand the attention paid him by courtesans only too eager to lavish their brand of love on him.

She had been sitting in the gazebo in the garden when he’d startled her. He touched her shoulder and murmured in her ear, “Hello, my love.”

Helena’s despair turned to joy. She rose and threw her arms around him. “You’ve come! How glad I am you’re here, my handsome cavalier. Don’t leave me again no matter what.”

His kiss was one of reassuring tenderness, but he stopped before it turned to passion. “Did you really believe I would give up so easily? Is that what you think of my resolve, foolish woman? I can’t, you know. You’ve crawled under my skin. I forget to breathe when you are not at my side.”

“Father isn’t here, darling, but he’s expected. What can you say to him you haven’t already said?”

“Is this your marquis?” Jane asked, interrupting them.

Desmond let go of Helena and turned to examine a full-bodied young girl with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “And who might you be, pretty lady?”

“I’m Jane, Helena’s sister. Never mind me, though. No one else in this family ever does.”

“They don’t? How foolish of them, for never have I seen a more ravishing beauty.” He turned to Helena and protested, “How dare you hide this mysterious beauty from me.”

Helena checked her laugh at Jane’s blush. “Jane’s my baby sister. She manages to pop up when you least expect her.”

“I’m not snooping. I’ve been sent,” Jane objected in an injured tone. “I came to remind you it’s time to change for dinner.” She turned as if to leave, but Waverley caught her arm.

He kissed her hand and bowed to her. “I am the Marquis of Waverley, come to court your sister Helena. But she might not have me. If she spurns me, I’ll offer for you. Will you have me instead, Lady Jane?”

“Silly!” She giggled and ran away.

Waverley quickly changed into evening clothes, for he had arranged an audience with her grace. She agreed to receive him in her private study fifteen minutes before the rest of the family was to meet for cocktails in the drawing room.

He knocked on the door of her sitting room and entered. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, your grace,” murmured Waverley when she rose from her chair and came toward him. He took the hand she offered and put his lips to it.

“We meet at last, my lord. I’ve so looked forward to it,” she said with her customary poise.

“I’ve a letter for you from my grandmother, your grace.” He reached into his vest pocket and withdrew it.

“From my godmother? How kind of her to write. Will you excuse me while I read it?” She sat at her desk and broke the seal. It took her only a few moments to read the dowager’s brief note. She turned to Waverley and waved him to a chair.

“Please sit, sir. Let me tell you that your grandmother and I are in full agreement concerning this match. She wants for her grandson precisely what I want for my daughter Helena, and that is a lifetime of happiness. Don’t even think about disappointing us, young man.”

“I pledge my life on it, your grace,” he said with more cheerfulness than he felt.

“Good! Then it remains for you to follow your grandmother’s advice and petition the duke once more.”

“Will he change his mind, do you think, your grace?”

“We’ll have to wait and see, son. Won’t we?”

Two days of boisterous family sport passed, no one more delighted at the antics of the Fairchild clan than the marquis, who grew up an only child. He rode with Edward in the morning, played card games with Jane in the afternoon, dandled little Tony on his knee and listened raptly to Mary as she played flawlessly in the evening.

On the third afternoon of Waverley’s arrival, two more guests on horseback joined them. “Sir Brooks and Mr. Denville have arrived, your grace,” announced the butler.

“Show them in at once, Buxton,” she said to the Bodmin butler.

Olivia turned in surprise when the door opened. “Sebastian!” she shouted and ran to him. “Hugh? What brings you here, my friend?”

“Just a visit. Your husband begged me to accompany him.”

Sebastian wasted no time in picking up his son and covering his face with kisses.

“Dada,” said the child.

“He knows me!”

The women laughed, aware that this was the only intelligible word the child spoke, whatever the occasion.

Livy said, “Tony certainly does know his father, my love. He gets smarter by the day.”

“And larger. What are you feeding him, wife?”

With the exception of Georgiana, who was occupied with her brother and Lord Waverley in a game of billiards, the women were in the drawing room, for it was raining. Jane sat on the floor playing with her nephew Tony, Mary played the pianoforte softly while Olivia and Helena sorted out the silk colors for their mother’s needlework.

“Brooks,” greeted Waverley when he, Georgiana and Edward entered the room.

Sebastian shook his hand. “Come and meet my good friend, Hugh Denville.” He turned to him. “This is the Marquis of Waverley, Hugh. He was responsible for the capture of the smugglers.”

“My compliments…” Before Denville could finish, a pair of delicate hands covered his eyes and he grinned. “If I’m forced to guess, these must be the hands of my dear friend Lady Georgiana.”

“How did you know, you odious wretch? You haven’t seen me in years.” She let go and turned him around to face her. “Well? What have you to say to that, Denville?”

“You exaggerate. It’s only been one year, milady. My, how you’ve grown.”

“Like what you see?” She turned seductively, shocking her mother.

“Georgiana! Behave yourself!”

Georgie’s laugh pierced Denville’s heart.

“Denville doesn’t mind my banter. He’s practically family, Mother.”

“Your daughter’s full of mischief, isn’t she, your grace? I give you my word, I’ll not take advantage of her antics.” Yet in spite of his promise, her astonishing beauty turned his knees to jelly.

“You won’t have to, my friend, for I’ve met the man of my dreams and I plan to marry him. Care for a game of billiards, Denville? Come along, then.” The saucy minx turned and looked over her shoulder. “I dare you!”

The duchess frowned at Georgiana’s shocking flirtation but said nothing. Her daughter’s latest paramour, Viscount Willard Ardmore, had the reputation of being as wild as her daughter. She dearly hoped the attraction would not last and that Georgie would move on to someone more suitable. Someone like Hugh Denville, perhaps. He had about him a sober quality. She wondered if he was strong enough to keep her mischievous daughter out of the rakehell pranks she was so fond of pursuing.

The duchess could never get her fill of the joy she felt in her children’s boisterous presence, though she suspected that her spouse stubbornly refused to understand a mother’s love for her children. How unfortunate for him that he could not share in her joy. All at once the duchess felt alone in spite of a roomful of her children. She wondered how she would manage to survive the rest of her life at the side of such a stubborn mule.

Her grace’s worry was to be put to the test the next morning, with the arrival of the duke and his brother Charles.

Saturday, the Twenty-third of May, 1818

The duke knocked and entered his wife’s chamber. She turned to him as if surprised. “Good morning, your grace.” Her tone was welcoming, but only for the sake of her abigail’s loose tongue. The duchess dismissed the woman with a nod. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve missed you, Ellen.”

“Why have you come, Tony?”

“Unfinished business, my dear. On the advice of Charles, I wish to settle it. He’s come with me.”

She gave a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Are you such a coward you need your brother along for moral support?”

“You might say that. If it’s any solace to you, he doesn’t agree with me either, Ellen.”

“Remind me to commend him for his good sense, then.”

She was not making it easy for him. The duke yearned to loosen his neck cloth but he let it pass. “I understand that the Marquis of Waverley is staying here. How is this?”

“Have you forgotten that his grandmother is my godmother? He’s brought me a letter from her.” She added with continued defiance, “The marquis is a guest in my home. What’s more, my children have made him feel as one of the family.”

The duke winced at being left out of the picture. “
Our
home, Ellen.
Our
children. Need I remind you that I have their best interests at heart?”

“Tell that to Helena why don’t you,” she snapped.

He hadn’t sunk this low in his wife’s esteem in years. “I didn’t mean…”

“It no longer matters to me what you mean. I was about to send for you, in fact. Lord Waverley is anxious to meet with you. He’ll welcome your arrival, even if I won’t.”

The duke proceeded to sink even lower in the quagmire he’d created for himself. “Must I grant him yet another audience?”

“You may do whatever you please, your grace. However, he is a guest in my home and I expect you to treat him as such.”

“Your anger wounds me, Ellen. Can you not find it in your heart to forgive me?”

She gave this some thought. “You will have to settle for civility, your grace. The children need not know that their parents are at such odds. Let us join them for breakfast.”

He offered his arm, half expecting another rebuff, but she took it. “My godmother was a much-sought-after beauty in her day,” she remarked amiably, more for the sake of the servants in the hall. It was well known that servants were the eyes and the ears of a large household and did not hesitate to spread the family gossip. “Did you know that my uncle offered for her? She might have been my aunt, but she chose to marry the Marquis of Waverley instead.”

“Yes, I recall thinking her a great beauty. I saw her many times at Almack’s and the usual entertainments during the Season, but I was presented to her only once when I was a mere lad. I liked her, you know.”

“All the more reason to grant her grandson his request.”

When they reached the breakfast room, the boisterous din that greeted them was music to the duke’s ears, for he sorely missed his family. Even better was the warm welcome he received from his children.

“Go to him,” Waverley urged Helena.

She rose at once and pecked her father on the cheek. “Morning, Father. I’m glad you’ve come.”

This unexpected welcome stunned the duke. He clasped her to him for a moment, swallowed the lump in his throat and demanded, “Where’s my grandson?”

“Send for the baby,” Olivia said with a smile.

Sebastian grinned at his wife. “Already done, love. Nurse is on her way with Tony.”

“Good morning, your grace,” the marquis said affably as he rose to offer his hand. “Delighted to see you again.”

All eyes turned to the duke. The Fairchild children took family secrets in their stride. Naturally, they knew everything.

Aware he was being watched for signs of his well-known temper, the duke confounded his children by saying pleasantly, “How are you, Waverley? Welcome to Bodmin Castle. Will you join me after breakfast, sir?”

“My pleasure, your grace.” The table fell into uncomfortable silence at this exchange, but the duke was saved from further discomfort by the entrance of his beloved grandson.

“Dada!” gurgled the infant with outstretched arms.

The duke’s eyes lit up. “He knows my name!” He took the infant from his nurse and nuzzled him, whereupon the seven-month-old’s unintelligible conversation replaced the awkward silence.

Waverley took the opportunity to add, “Would you rather we postpone our talk until this afternoon, your grace? I think your grandson takes priority.”

“Good of you, Waverley. Join me in the library this afternoon at two.” His outward calm did not betray his inner dread of the meeting with the marquis. The duke feared it might not be a pleasant encounter.

That afternoon, like birds falling eerily silent before a hurricane, the servants were hushed. Two under maids polished the library table and dusted the chairs. Footmen carried wood in and lit a roaring fire in the enormous fireplace, for the library was habitually cold due to the doors leading to the terrace. These caused a constant draft despite the duke’s best efforts to cure this affliction.

Opposite the fireplace, a wall of books rose the full height of the room, accessible by a ladder that ran smoothly on a track above the balcony. The sturdy ladder had been a favorite glider for the Fairchild children when they were still in the schoolroom, though not a one of them showed interest in reading the books.

“Don’t lose your temper, dear brother,” warned the vicar. “No matter how much you believe the marquis is trying to provoke you.”

“Provoke me? He wouldn’t dare do such a thing.”

Charles laughed. “Try for some common sense, duke. You’ve as much as insulted his title by refusing his suit for your daughter’s hand. That’s enough of a reason for his anger.”

“I haven’t changed my position, you know.”

The vicar threw up his hands. “The more fool you, then. You are swimming against the tide. Can’t you see that Waverley and Helena adore one another? I strongly suspect that you’ll not win this battle.”

“Remains to be seen,” he muttered.

“You have my sympathy, but not my respect.” His brother rose to leave.

“Where are you going?” the duke asked in alarm. “I begged you to come with me to lend your support.”

“I cannot support you when I do not agree with you. I’ve already told you that. You are on your own in this ordeal, brother duke. I’m off to change into riding clothes. Edward has challenged me to a race across the moors.”

“Traitor,” he grumbled, stared into the fire and brooded about the difficult task ahead of him, but he did not have long to wait before a knock on the door brought the marquis.

“Welcome,” he said with false heartiness.

Waverley paused to admire the room, well known to readers of English guidebooks. The Bodmin library was described as one of the greatest collections in all of England. “An impressive collection, your grace.”

The duke motioned him to a seat opposite his own. “I wish I could take credit for my library, but that is far from the truth. My ancestors built this library in the sixteenth century. My only contribution to it is the employment of a dedicated curator who looks after the volumes, catalogs them and arranges for scholars to use the collection for their research.”

“Have you read any of your books?” The twinkle in Waverley’s eyes gave the mischief away and the duke laughed as Waverley had intended. “That’s better, your grace. A laugh or two puts us on easier terms. Shall we get on with it?”

Georgiana was engaged in watching a friendly match between Sebastian and Denville in the billiard room. She awaited the outcome with eagerness, for she had challenged the winner. As she had hoped, it turned out to be Denville. She chalked up her cue, broke the rack and began to hit the balls into the pockets she named.

“You have an excellent eye, Miss Georgiana. Where did you learn to play so well?”

“The Fairchild women are famous for succeeding in all their endeavors. Everything we do, we do well. Father insists upon it, in fact.”

“I shudder to think what he might do should one of his children disappoint him.”

She laughed. “Disappoint him? Unthinkable, sir. In our family, one never fails. Olivia didn’t fail at your training academy, did she?”

“Far from it. She’s a legend, you know. Your sister set such a high standard, the women who follow must work harder than the men to meet her record.”

Georgiana’s eyes flirted as she said, “You’d be surprised at the power we Fairchild women hold in our lovely little hands, Denville. I’d advise you to avoid our clutches.”

In the drawing room, Mary, Olivia, Helena and the duchess kept busy. The only one without a useful occupation was Jane, who managed to irritate her mother and her sisters with incessant complaints of boredom.

“Come turn the pages for me,” advised gentle Mary.

“Why should I? You know all the music by heart.”

“Find an interesting book to read,” suggested the duchess.

“There are no interesting books in this house!”

In lieu of the enormous library collection, Helena and Livy exchanged amused glances, but refrained from laughing, for that room was already in use, as everyone knew.

“What time is it, poppet?” asked Livy.

“It’s five minutes later than the last time you asked me,” Jane said with the annoyance of a bored child.

Helena said, “Why don’t you see whether Georgiana and the men have finished their game of billiards?”

“They threw me out the last time you asked me to see if they were done. Besides, Georgie threatened to beat me with a cue stick if I showed my face again.”

“For heaven’s sake, Jane! Can’t you find anything useful to occupy you?”

Her mother’s rebuke brought tears to the child’s eyes. Olivia put her silks down, rushed to Jane and wiped her tears away. “There, there, poppet. Don’t cry. It’s not your fault. We’re all a bit on edge.”

“Everyone thinks I’m too young to know what’s going on, but I know what’s bothering all of you all the same! Lord Waverley wants to marry Helena and Father won’t permit it. And…and Lord Waverley’s trying to talk some sense into Father, so there! I’m not so stupid as you all seem to think,” she added, her nine-year-old jaw jutting out over her double chin.

“Have you been eavesdropping again, Jane?”

“I didn’t have to eavesdrop, Mother. Even the lowliest servant knows what’s going on in this family. Am I no better?” Jane’s tears turned to bitter sobs.

Consumed with guilt, the duchess put her needlework down and held out her arms. “Come here, my child.” She rocked the sobbing girl in her arms as if she were an infant.

Stretched to the limits of her patience as well, Helena burst out, “You’re not the only unhappy one, Jane. If Father and the marquis don’t conclude soon, I shall go mad. What could possibly be taking them so long?”

Helena’s words had a strange effect on Olivia. “Jane?”

“Wha…what?” The child blew her nose in the cloth her mother held out for her.

“I’ve thought of an occupation that only you know how to do well. It may also do a great deal to help us ease our minds.”

All eyes turned to Olivia. Even Mary stopped playing in order to listen.

“Can you peek into the library without being seen?”

“Livy!” said her mother, aghast at the thought of encouraging Jane to eavesdrop.

“Don’t worry, Mother. Jane won’t be able to hear a word. The terrace doors are much too thick.” She turned to her little sister and added, “Come back and describe to us what you see. Are they talking? Are they angry? Are they sitting? Are they…”

Jane’s eyes glowed with eagerness. “I know. You want me to be a spy just like you.”

“Exactly so, but you must be sure to remain out of sight. If Father catches you, he will be very angry with the lot of us.”

“Be right back,” she said and flew out of the room with surprising agility.