A Good Rake is Hard to Find (17 page)

“Thank you, cousin,” he said, rising with an involuntary groan. “I definitely think a hot bath is in order.”

“I'll see you later, then,” Gerard said before leaving Freddy in the front hall.

Blinking at the brightness of sunshine as he stepped out onto the steps, Freddy was surprised to find Mainwaring waiting beside a hackney cab on the street outside. “Do not worry,” the other man said with a nod. “I got one of my coachmen to drive your curricle back to your house. And since that was how you got here, I assumed you'd need some way of getting home. Though since you were the winner someone should really have offered to drive you home.”

“How did you know I'd won?” Freddy asked, hauling himself up into the vehicle.

“Mostly by the fact that you're able to leave the house under your own power,” Mainwaring admitted. “You did win, didn't you? Otherwise I don't see how we can be friends any longer.”

“'Course I won,” Freddy responded, wincing at the pain in his split lip when he spoke. “I bloody thrashed Payne.”

“So it wasn't a simple meeting like your cousin tried to convince me?” the earl asked. “I'm shocked that your dear cousin would lie. Devastated really.”

Freddy laughed, but that hurt his ribs so he stopped.

“It was simply a relocation of the fight with Payne from Jackson's to Half Moon Street,” he told the earl, resting his head against the seat while the coach jostled through Mayfair toward his town house. “I'd say more but I've got the devil of a headache.”

“I'm sure you have, old fellow,” said Mainwaring. “I vow, Payne's fists are the size of claymores.”

Changing the subject, he went on, “I'm sorry to say that I won't be able to tend your wounds myself. Which is to your benefit. I'm rubbish in the sickroom. Much too restless to sit quietly and knit, or sew, or whatever it is nurses do. I have, however, thought of the perfect person to act in my stead.”

But by now Freddy was too exhausted to pay attention to his friend's prattle. All he cared about was getting out of this rattletrap of a carriage and into a quiet room.

“I don't care who tends 'em,” he told Mainwaring without opening his eyes. “So long as there's a glass of brandy as big as my head to go with it.”

“I feel sure that can be arranged,” Mainwaring said.

 

Eleven

Leonora was on her way upstairs to massage her aching temples after her delicate interview with Freddy's mother and sister-in-law, when she heard a knock on the door. Thinking to escape the visitor, she hurried on her way. Until, that is, she heard Freddy's voice in conversation with her father's butler, Greentree.

Reversing course, she made her way back downstairs to find Mr. Greentree standing in the entrance hall giving orders to one of the footmen as Freddy assured the older man that he was as right as rain.

“No need to make a fuss, Greentree,” he was saying as Leonora hurried forward. “It's not as bad as it looks, I promise.”

When she got within sight of her betrothed, Leonora gasped. “Good God, Freddy!” she exclaimed. “Who did this to you?”

Unable to stop herself, she reached out to touch his face.

“Careful,” Freddy said with a wince. “It might not be as bad as it looks, but it hurts like the very dev … deuce.”

At his switch to the tamer epithet, she rolled her eyes. Now was not the time to be concerned about offending her with his language.

“The other fellow looks much worse,” he continued in a cheerful tone that made her want to scream. “I apologize for descending upon you in this state, but Mainwaring threatened to call for the surgeon if I didn't promise to come here at once. He is remarkably squeamish for a gamester. I'd have thought he'd have had his share of beatings given his reputation for winning all the time, but he says not.”

“Mr. Greentree,” Leonora said, not bothering to respond to Frederick's rambling, “will you please see to it that a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches are sent to my sitting room? And have cook send up a beefsteak for his eye.”

“Very good, miss,” the butler said with a brisk nod. “I'll also see if I can get some ice.”

Once Greentree was gone, Leonora turned to Freddy. “Are you able to walk?” she asked briskly, moving to drape his arm around her neck.

“Careful,” Frederick said on a hiss as she slipped her own arm around his waist. “I think I might have a couple of broken ribs.”

Gingerly, she moved to his other side and slowly they made their way up the stairs, Leonora using every bit of slang she'd ever heard her brother use.

“I had no idea you had such a command of cant, my dear,” Frederick wheezed as they finally made it to the door of her sitting room. “I'm quite impressed. Though I'm not sure you quite understand the meaning of ‘boxing the Jesuit.' Even so, you're quite skillful. I suppose it's because you're a poet and fond of language. I had a tutor—”

“Freddy, this is not the time to compliment me on my swearing abilities,” she said as she lowered him to the settee. “After what I've heard today, seeing you in this state is the last possible thing I could have wished for.”

“The poetry at your salon was that bad?” he asked as he tried to find a comfortable position. “I'm sorry to have missed it, if only to lend you support, but I was detained at Jackson's, and then my cousin called another meeting of his infantile club. I could hardly refuse given that we are attempting to gain a foothold with the Anarchists. I think that's going rather well, by the way.”

Hoping to find some comfort in the ritual of pouring out the tea, Leonora took a seat beside him on the settee. After learning how her brother had died—from a beating not wholly different from what Freddy had endured today—seeing him in this state was unsettling in the extreme.

“So,” she said as she handed him his cup, “your cousin's club requires bouts of fisticuffs from its new members, as well? It seems to me they spend time doing everything but the one thing they were created for. Namely driving.”

“Just what Mainwaring said,” Freddy said with a laugh that turned into a cough. “I begin to think that driving might be the reason they were formed, but that it's for a more sinister reason they continue to get together.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, curiosity dampening her anxiety for a moment. “I mean, there must be something, otherwise my brother wouldn't have been so keen to leave, surely. But what have you learned?”

“It's just that Lord Payne—in between attempts to beat me into a fine mash—said as much.” He stretched out on the settee, wincing at the motion. “I suspect he hoped I'd die of my wounds, but I didn't grow up with four brothers without learning how to fight dirty.”

“You might be surprised to know,” Leonora said, watching as he brought his forearm up to shade his eyes from the light, “that I just today learned about these no-rules fights your cousin arranges.”

Freddy lowered his arm to look at her. “How?” he demanded. “I thought you had your salon this morning.”

“I did,” she said, rising to get her medical supplies from a small sideboard. Busying herself with removing the things she'd need, she continued, “Lady Darleigh paid me a visit during the salon.”

“And?” Freddy asked, hissing as Leonora cleaned a cut above his eyebrow.

“And she told me about the fighting,” Leonora said, narrowing her eyes to see if there was any debris in the cut. “She was horrified when her husband told her about it.”

Freddy was silent for a moment. Perhaps he was considering her own response to finding him bloodied and bruised in the entry hall a few moments ago, she thought.

When he didn't speak, she moved on to another cut on his jawline. It was already swelling and would probably get worse before it got better. She hoped Greentree had found some ice for it.

“What else did Lady Darleigh have to say?” Freddy prompted after she'd worked in silence for some minutes. “Did she know anything about Jonathan?”

Sighing, Leonora looked up from where she'd been bandaging his split knuckles. “She did, I'm sorry to say. Or happy?” She shook her head. “I wanted to know. Needed to know, even. But the truth of what happened is so much worse than I'd imagined.”

“Tell me,” Freddy said, taking her hand in his free one. “Sit, tell me everything.”

Wordlessly, she set aside her bandages and carefully sat beside him on the sofa. Gaining strength from his mere proximity. When he put an arm around her, she closed her eyes and told him what she'd learned from Lady Darleigh.

Freddy listened without interruption, only cursing when she got to the part about how the club members had thrown Jonathan's body to the side of the Dover Road.

“And that's it,” Leonora said, accepting the handkerchief he'd pressed into her hand. She hadn't even realized she'd been weeping. “They left him there, then hid his curricle away somewhere so that the authorities would think it had been stolen.”

Despite his injuries, Freddy pulled her into his lap and held her while she cried, whispering soothing words against her hair.

When she'd run out of tears, Leonora stayed in his arms, unable to resist the safety she felt there. “Lady Darleigh asked for our help,” she said, smoothing the lapel of his coat just to have something to keep her hands occupied. “Her husband wants to leave the club, but is convinced he'll end up like Jonathan if he tries.”

“That's not entirely improbable,” Freddy said, stroking her back. “It's very likely that was the reason your brother took those documents from Gerard. To blackmail him into letting Jonathan leave unharmed.”

Leonora sat up and looked him full in the face. “So, Lady Darleigh was telling the truth.”

Reaching up to cup her face, Freddy stroked his thumb over her cheek. “It makes logical sense. He loved driving but, as we have learned, driving is only a fraction of what occupies the club's time. I cannot imagine Jonathan was best pleased with that. He certainly would have objected to no-rules fisticuffs on a regular basis. For one thing, it's dashed near impossible to drive properly when your arm is in a sling and you can't see straight.”

Nodding, Leonora settled back down against his chest. “I don't quite know why, but the idea that he was unhappy with the Anarchists eases my mind. I think on some level I was afraid that he'd become one of them. Someone who enjoyed violence, and the kind of lechery we saw at your cousin's house last night.”

Freddy kissed the top of her head. “I think it's safe to assume that Jonathan joined for the driving and realized not long after that it wasn't what he'd signed on for. And seeing that no one else was able to escape with their lives, he decided to protect his life by stealing some of my cousin's papers.”

“And lost his life anyway.” Leonora was glad to know the truth, but the fact was that her brother was still gone.

“I told Mainwaring to take me home,” Freddy said into the quiet. “But he insisted on bringing me here. Said he'd arranged things with you—which is a bald-faced lie.”

“Did you not want to see me?” she asked, surprised at how hurt she was by the idea of him going home alone in his current state.

“I always want to see you,” he said, kissing her. “But I didn't want to upset you. I know I'm not looking my handsome best at the moment.”

“As if I care for such things,” she said, kissing him back. “I only want you safe. If I'm upset about anything it's that you're now involved in your cousin's detestable club. I wish more than anything that we'd never embarked on this investigation.”

“You worry too much,” he said, stroking a lock of hair from her forehead. “I know how to handle Gerard. And I don't intend to let him harm either of us.”

But they both knew that it might not come down to their intentions.

“I'm glad Mainwaring brought you here,” she said with a smile. “Though I don't know why you didn't just have Greentree send you home in one of the carriages. He would have been happy to do so.”

He looked sheepish. “I wanted to see you,” he admitted. “It was stupid of me since you were bound to be unsettled by the sight of all these bruises, but I couldn't help myself.”

She sighed, and with gentle care for his injuries, wrapped her arms around him. “You are the most foolish man I've ever met. And the bravest. Not many men would allow themselves to be beaten senseless for any reason. Much less to learn the truth about what happened to a friend weeks ago. What good could it possibly do at this point?”

“It could do a great deal,” he responded, kissing the end of her nose. “Especially if it could ease the mind of the friend's sister. Who happens to be unutterably beautiful.”

“I'd hardly call myself that,” she responded with a laugh. “But if you are giving out compliments, I shall take them. If you are willing to take mine in return.”

“I suppose one could do worse than accept being called foolish and brave,” he said with a laugh.

“Speaking of foolish and brave,” she continued, “in addition to the salon, I had a visit this morning beforehand from your mama and your sister-in-law.”

Now it was his turn to curse fluently.

“Oh, it's not as bad as all that,” she said with a shrug. “I quite liked them.”

Though she'd been unsettled by Perdita's condition, she couldn't help but like the redhead. Remembering their conversation, though, reminded her of their talk about miscarriage. And she was suddenly very aware that she was behaving with Freddy as if there were no reason in the world they couldn't be together.

Carefully, she extricated herself from his arms. Which he seemed not to notice so incensed was he by his relatives' impromptu visit.

“Was ever a man so beset by meddling relations as I am?” he asked, thrusting his uninjured hand into his messy curls. “Perdita I can forgive because she's enceinte, and could possibly just wish to welcome you to the family. Mama, on the other hand, knows better than to come here before telling me. She's a busybody, and always has been.”