A Good Rake is Hard to Find (14 page)

“The additional guest at dinner I spoke of will be you, my dear,” the duchess said with a smile that removed twenty years from her face. Leonora suddenly realized how much she'd longed for the approval of Freddy's mother, so great was her relief at the duchess's shift from disapproving to welcoming. “If you are to marry my son, then you must come to dinner at our home tonight. I realize it is short notice, but I do hope you'll consider it. If not for my sake, then for Frederick's.”

There was no way she could decline given how sincere the duchess's invitation seemed. And besides, she felt a curious desire to see Freddy among his family, to see how they got along together. Their first betrothal had been so brief she'd not even met his family.

“I thank you, your grace. I should be honored to attend this evening.”

“Excellent,” the duchess said, pulling on her gloves. “We dine at seven. I will have Frederick come fetch you.”

To Leonora's surprise, she leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “I look forward to getting to know you better, my dear.”

Perdita winked at her as she followed the Duchess of Pemberton from the room.

Utterly flustered by the whole affair, Leonora collapsed onto the settee.

What a debacle, she thought numbly. The more time she spent with Freddy's family, the more painful it would be when their pretend betrothal ran its course. And the last thing she wanted was to cause him or his family more pain.

If only she could contemplate marrying him without the burden of her inability to conceive. In every other way, they were well suited.

Taking a sip of her now cold tea, she looked forlornly at the door her visitors had just exited.

I'm sorry, Freddy.

*   *   *

“You're a bastard,” the Earl of Mainwaring said, thrusting his arms into the banyan Frederick had just tossed to him. “You know this, yes?”

“I have it on excellent authority that my parents were married when I was born,” Freddy said, unrepentant, crossing his arms over his chest. “What with all the brothers who came before me and all.”

He'd arrived at an admittedly early hour in his friend's rooms thanks to his own inability to sleep past daylight. The night before had left him with too many racing thoughts to settle properly into sleep. And besides that, there were things he needed to do this morning. Things that would require the help of Mainwaring.

The earl grunted as he accepted a glass of the foul concoction his valet conjured up for those mornings when his master suffered from overindulging the night before. To Freddy's disgust, Mainwaring swallowed it down in one gulp, shaking his head as he did so.

“I don't know how you stand the stuff,” Freddy said with barely restrained revulsion. “Do you even know what's in it?”

“I neither know, nor care,” Mainwaring responded, setting the empty glass on a side table, then tying his robe. “All I care about is that it takes away this accursed headache. And of course, learning your reason for waking me at the arse-crack of dawn so that I may murder you for it. A man likes to know the reason why he's killing his friend.”

“You can't kill me,” Freddy said, dropping into an armchair before the fire as his friend sat down before a tray of tea and toast his valet had left for him. “At least not before I figure out who is responsible for Jonathan's death.”

The mention of Jonathan brought them both back down to earth. “What news on that front?” the earl asked as he bit into a piece of toast. “I see from the page Hoskins has helpfully marked for me in the post that you've made your betrothal to Leonora official. Again.”

Freddy sat up and unceremoniously plucked the paper from Mainwaring's hand. “Is it in there already? That's fast work. I gave them a bribe to put it in this morning's edition, but one never knows.” He scanned the page, and saw that sure enough, there was the announcement that Lord Frederick Lisle and Miss Leonora Craven were planning to marry. It was rather startling to see it in black-and-white and Freddy found that he rather liked seeing it spelled out. He wondered if Leonora had seen it, then cursed himself for being a sentimental idiot.

Turning his attention to the matter at hand, he looked up to see that Mainwaring was watching him.

“What?” he asked, not liking the knowing glint in his friend's eye.

“Nothing,” Mainwaring responded, chewing his toast. “It just seems that you're rather pleased with yourself over the announcement.”

“Need I remind you, Mainwaring,” Freddy said in his most glacial tones, “that this is a pretend betrothal? I am pleased to see that my bribe worked. That is all.”

The other man's brow quirked. “If you say so, old fellow.”

“I do.”

“I know. I heard you.”

“Then there is nothing more to discuss.”

Mainwaring looked as if he'd like to discuss the matter further, but after a long look he shook his head as if to clear it.

“Well, then, I suppose you had a reason for rousing me from my bed this early,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It doesn't take a mathematical genius to figure that out. So, what is it?”

Quickly Freddy told him about almost everything that had transpired at his cousin's home the night before.

The earl whistled. “I wondered about that induction ceremony. It's rather disappointing to learn it was so unspectacular. I suppose Gerard uses his imagination for something other than the club. Dashed if I know what that could be though.”

“My point,” Freddy said, “was not to discuss the ceremony, but to make it clear that my cousin is being blackmailed by someone.”

“Well, yes,” Mainwaring responded with a shrug. “But, as my nanny used to say, ‘lie down with dogs, wake up with fleas.'”

“Too right. However, the reason I've roused you from your bed at this ungodly hour is so that you can accompany me to Jackson's. My cousin invited me to pay a visit to Jackson's this morning to spar with one of the other members. It's part of the initiation apparently.”

“That should be easy enough.” Mainwaring nodded. “You're already there once a week or so. I'm pleased to hear it's another club member you'll spar with. I've got to maintain my gorgeous exterior if I'm going to woo the delicious Mrs. Creighton into my bed. She said she likes my pretty face. And it would be a shame to disappoint her. Especially given how you always ignore my admonition to keep any bruising away from
mon visage
.”

Freddy rolled his eyes. “You and your pretty
visage
. Fortunately for you and your face, I have need of you only as a distraction so that I may speak to the other club members in attendance without being caught out by my cousin. Someone among their number knows the truth of what killed Jonathan and I want to hear it.”

At the mention of their friend, Mainwaring sighed. “All right. Give me ten minutes to dress and we'll be off.

“However,” he said as he rang for his valet, “I must remark that for a driving club, the Lords of Anarchy devote a great deal of time to doing anything but.”

 

Nine

One hour later—Mainwaring had taken longer to dress than promised, claiming that a gentleman could not make his toilette in haste lest he disappoint his public—they stepped into the bastion of masculine fisticuffs, Gentleman Jackson's boxing saloon.

The man himself was watching a pair of young gentlemen Freddy recognized as the scions of two of the
ton
's most influential families. And leaning against the wall, deep in discussion, he recognized the Anarchists Sir Horace Meade and Lord Payne.

Indicating to Mainwaring that he was going to speak to them, he strode across the room, which was already crowded with men wagering or watching the matches already under way.

“It's finished,” he heard Payne saying in a low voice as he approached. “And Sir Gerard would like very much for you to keep the matter to yourself. If the authorities find out, it will be a loss for the entire club.”

From the expression on Meade's face, Freddy knew that the topic was not a happy one. Unfortunately, the other man noticed Freddy's approach and bit back his reply before it could be overheard.

“Lord Frederick,” Sir Horace said pointedly, and sure enough Lord Payne turned and glared at the approaching man. Clearly their discussion had been of some import.

Interesting.

“I thought you might put in an appearance this morning,” Sir Horace continued. “Would you care for a bout?”

Before he could respond, Lord Payne turned and scanned him with a cold eye. “I think you'd better let me fight him, old man,” the large man drawled. “I think he's more up to my weight than yours.”

It was true that Sir Horace was half a head shorter than the other two men, but Freddy had a feeling that Lord Payne's desire to spar with him had little to do with the suitability of their weights. Even so, Freddy inclined his head. “I'd like nothing better,” he said. “In fact, Jackson owes me a favor, so I'll see to it we don't have to wait.”

Sir Horace, evidently acceding to Lord Payne's authority, shrugged. “It's all the same to me. I'm not overly fond of fisticuffs anyway. I came because Sir Gerard encouraged it and you'll soon learn, Lord Frederick, that one would do well to do whatever Sir Gerard asks. He expects obedience from club members in all things.”

Something about the other man's nasty grin set Freddy's teeth on edge. Sir Gerard might expect obedience, but he was damned if he'd take orders from the man he'd known since he was a schoolboy tearing the wings off flies.

“I'll keep that in mind,” he told the other man blandly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the advice. Turning to Lord Payne, he gestured that they should proceed to the empty ring, where Gentleman Jackson himself was standing just outside, talking with one of the men whose fights had just finished.

When Jackson's conversation was finished, it was only a matter of a few words' conversation to secure the center ring for Freddy and Lord Payne.

While Payne stayed behind to talk with Jackson, Freddy headed for the dressing room, where other men were dressing and undressing for their own matches.

“I thought you were here to speak with Sir Horace,” Mainwaring protested while Freddy removed his cravat. “Payne is not overly fond of rules. Especially the ones that involve fighting fair. I learned that the hard way at school.”

Mainwaring, as a mathematical genius, had not had a pleasant time at school before he fell in with Freddy and Trent and Jonathan Craven. Freddy hadn't forgotten, but his focus now was not on Lord Payne's trustworthiness. He already knew it was nonexistent.

“Perhaps,” he said, flexing his shoulders, “it's time he fought someone his own size.”

“Definitely,” the earl responded, “but you must know the man has blood in his eyes. He wants to bash your head in for some reason, and given half a chance he's going to do it.”

“Dear Mainwaring,” Freddy said with a grin. “I didn't know you cared…”

“Don't be an arse,” the other man responded with disgust. “I'm serious, Fred. He's not known for pulling his punches. And I do not want to be the one to explain to Leonora that you've gone and gotten yourself killed.”

At the mention of Leonora, Freddy sobered. “I'm doing this for her,” he said in a low voice. “Payne knows something about what happened to Jonny. As does Sir Horace. Fighting Lord Payne will encourage them to see me as a member of the club. And hopefully will loosen their tongues.”

“If you say so,” the earl said, looking skeptical. “I suppose I'll just have to trust you.”

“My lords,” Gentleman Jackson said in a loud voice. “Are you ready for the match to begin?”

“I'm off,” Freddy said in a low voice. “Wish me luck.”

“You'll need it,” Mainwaring muttered as they approached the ring, where a bare-chested Lord Payne stood bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Before Freddy could move into the ring, however, Sir Gerard Fincher stepped up beside him. “I am pleased to see you followed my advice to come this morning, Lord Frederick. I am always happy to welcome new members to the club who are able to follow instructions.”

Biting back a retort what would likely get him ejected from the Anarchists, Freddy instead nodded and said, “How could I resist, cousin? I have always enjoyed a fight. And Lord Payne was happy enough to oblige me.”

Payne flushed, clearly disliking the notion of obliging anyone about anything. “I was ready for a fight,” he said in a clipped tone. “And I knew that as a new member, he needed testing.” Unsaid but implied was his suspicion that Freddy would not be passing Professor Payne's pugilistic exam.

“I am grateful for your enthusiasm, Payne,” Gerard said to the other man. “But I'm afraid I must ask the two of you to accompany me to my house for an emergency meeting.”

Turning to Gentleman Jackson, Gerard added, “I will be sure to compensate you for the time lost while we held this ring, Mr. Jackson.”

The big man shrugged, as if it were all the same to him whether they stayed or left. Turning, he walked away to call for someone else to use the now empty ring.

Mainwaring, who had been watching the exchange with a frown, spoke up. “Might I come along as well, Sir Gerard? I'm quite curious about your club, despite being an indifferent driver.”

Freddy had to give his friend credit. He was bold. But it was clear from Gerard's expression that he'd rather invite an asp to sup at his dinner table than have Mainwaring accompany them. He wasn't sure if it was because the other man outranked him or if it was simply a desire to keep prying eyes away. Whatever the case, his response was negative. “Unfortunately, Lord Mainwaring,” Gerard said coolly, “this will be a meeting for club members only. I should very much like it if you would attend the ball my wife and I will be hosting later in the season, however.”