A Rogue of My Own (26 page)

R
UPERT RETURNED HOME LATE
from his business trip, two days late. He’d sent notes to both his mother and Rebecca, letting them know of the unexpected delay. His wife hadn’t been there to receive hers. She hadn’t left him one either. Her mother did, though, and in no uncertain terms warned him to leave her daughter alone.

Finding out that Rebecca had returned to Norford with her mother, and not just for a visit but for good, left him floundering in a sea of emotions. He was angry, shocked, and not just a little hurt. Pretty damn good reasons to go out and get foxed, which was exactly what he did. But not before he sent a man to make sure she was still in Norford and to make sure she stayed there until he could decide what to do.

No decisions had been made last night, well, some had, but he was smart enough not to act on them when he was drunk, and they made no sense come morning. Actually it was afternoon by the time he crawled out of bed. He still wasn’t clear-headed enough to decide what to do—or to be confronted by his mother.

But Julie was waiting for him—and quite angry, by the look of it. The moment he came downstairs, she pushed him into the parlor and stood there blocking the exit with her stout, bristling body.

“I actually thought you’d come to your senses when you disappeared last night,” she said furiously. “But my spies tell me you didn’t leave for Norford to fetch your wife home.”

“You’re having me followed?”

“No, I’m having Rebecca watched. She’s the caretaker of my grandchild. I’m not going to be the last to know if anything out of the ordinary should happen.”

He wondered if her spy had stumbled upon his last night. When did he start thinking like his mother?

He took a seat on the sofa, where afternoon tea had been served. She came over and poured them each a cup. Neither of them drank it.

“You never should have got your heart set on a grandchild that may not be real,” he said. “You know as well as I that traps of this sort are rather common.”

No matter how many times he said it, thought it, it still sounded trite even to him, but Julie scoffed with a loud snort, “Rubbish. I know very well that you believe the baby is as real as I do, so don’t feed me that drivel. What are you waiting for? You should have gone after Rebecca yesterday as soon as you found out she was gone.”

“I had a blistering note from her mother warning me that she’d geld me if I didn’t allow Becca some peace during these early months of her pregnancy.”

“You could have assured her of some peace right here. She didn’t have to hie off to the country for it. So what
really
sent you off drinking instead of fetching her back? And do
not
try to tell me you’re afraid of her mother.”

He sighed. “Of course not. But I need to consider Rebecca’s feelings in all of this. She obviously wasn’t happy here.”

“And you weren’t happy because of it?” Julie guessed. “Rue, what’s got into you? You’ve never been this wishy-washy before.”

“I’ve never been in love before. Nor have I ever said so many really stupid things in anger that will likely never be forgiven. I’ve dug m’self into a hole and don’t have a bloody ladder for getting out of it.”

She actually smiled at him. Of course, he wasn’t in the habit of making such bald confessions to his mother, so for the moment she was rather pleased with him for doing so and offered her advice.

“What’s wrong with the truth? It tends to be a wonderful foundation to build on.”

Those words struck such a keen note, he stood up abruptly. He didn’t quite get to the door, though. It was suddenly blocked by his uncle, whom the butler had just let in. The Duke of Norford was standing there scowling at him.

“So you
are
here?” Preston Locke said. “Then what’s your wife doing in my neighborhood while you’re in this one?”

“Good to see you, Uncle. You don’t come to London often. I hope this isn’t why you’ve come this time.”

“Actually, since my sister and her son didn’t see fit to inform me personally about this marriage, and it already appears to be in a shambles, yes, I believe that’s exactly why I’ve come.”

Rupert flushed guiltily. He had intended to visit his uncle with Rebecca when he went to fetch her the first time. But having not found her in Norford then, he’d rushed back to London without giving his uncle another thought.

“It’s a long story,” Rupert began, “and I was just—”

“Sit down,” Preston said in a tone that brooked no refusal.

Rupert’s uncle was a big man. Raphael took after him. Both men were of the same height and had the same coloring. Preston’s blond hair might be getting a little gray at the temples, but he was still a strapping man, and when he used that authoritative tone, no one in the family dared disobey. Rupert was no exception. He sat down.

Julie tried to ease the sudden tension by saying, “Just in time for tea, Preston. I believe I can explain—”

“I’d rather hear it from Rue. Why did Lilly Marshall, whom I came across this morning while she was having her morning ride, warn me that the problems in your marriage could well lead to divorce?”

“The hell they will,” Rupert stated unequivocally.

“Exactly what I wanted to say to Lilly, but without the facts, my tongue was tied. I don’t
like
having my tongue tied, Rue. I don’t
like
hearing about marriages in my family secondhand. And I definitely don’t like hearing that a scandal in
my
family might be imminent. Now since you did marry the girl, why do mother and daughter think that there is no recourse other than a divorce?”

“I’ve done and said some stupid things,” Rupert admitted.

“Good God, don’t tell me you’ve already been unfaithful and she found out?”

Rupert actually grinned. “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Good to hear, because marriage is the time to put away your libertine ways and behave responsibly. Is that your intention?”

“Certainly.”

“Then what is the problem?”

Rupert sighed. “I wasn’t ready to get leg-shackled. I didn’t just feel trapped into it, I was sure I was being trapped into it.”

“She claimed to be pregnant?” At Rupert’s nod, Preston added, “Lilly forgot to mention that tidbit. Not that it matters at this point. What does matter is that you married her. I know the Marshalls. Rebecca is a lovely girl. Why wouldn’t you want her for your wife?”

“I do. But I’m not so sure she’ll forgive me for doubting her.”

“Well, she’s certainly not going to forgive you while you’re sitting on your arse here, is she?”

Rupert chuckled and stood up to leave.

Julie sputtered, “Your uncle tells you to go and you go? Didn’t I—”

“I was already going because of what you pointed out to me, that truth is a wonderful foundation to build on. Bloody hell, Mother! What would I do if I didn’t have you to kick some sense into me?”

I
THOUGHT HE WAS IN
the coach with you, but he wasn’t. Where is he? When is he coming?!”

Staring down the barrel of the pistol pointed just inches from her face, Rebecca didn’t think she’d get a word out, was sure of it. She’d even stopped breathing. The woman was enraged. It was written all over her twisted expression, and pouring out of her eyes. That rage predicted imminent death.

Rebecca was afraid to even look down to see if her mother was all right where she was sprawled on the floor at their feet. Lilly had escorted the woman into the room. Having been told by the woman that she was Rebecca’s friend, Lilly had probably thought the visit might cheer Rebecca up. Lilly had no way of knowing she’d let a viper into the house instead. But then Mary Pearson, nearing the end of her pregnancy, looked as innocent as a lamb—until her face became twisted with hatred.

Rebecca had leaped forward as Mary struck her mother on the head with her pistol, only to be stopped when Mary thrust the pistol in her face. Now Lilly wasn’t getting up or making a sound.

Rebecca had no doubt that Mary had been referring to Rupert, but she couldn’t think of that yet and finally managed to say, “Please, let me see to her. She’s my mother. You would want one of your own children to make sure you were all right if you were hurt, wouldn’t you?”

Mary immediately nodded consent. Rebecca realized in that moment that she might have found the key to dealing with Mary—the woman’s natural motherly instincts. Rebecca dropped to one knee next to Lilly and carefully examined her head. There was no blood. And her mother was breathing, looked quite peaceful in fact. At least a bit of Rebecca’s fear was removed.

“A pillow. Please,” she asked without glancing up.

Mary actually left her side to remove a thin cushion from the sofa and came back and handed it to her. Rebecca slipped it under her mother’s head, then pressed her luck, adding, “Her doctor should be—”

“No,” Mary cut in. “She’ll be fine—you may not be. Now answer me. Where is your husband?”

Rebecca stood up. The pistol returned to its previous position, too close to her for her to think of much else. She wondered if it would fire instantly if she tried to knock it aside.

She was gathering the courage to try when Mary continued, “I want to finish this so I can go home to my children!”

“Finish what?”

“Killing your husband.”

Rebecca sucked in a breath. “No!”

“I have to. Samuel told me to. He recognized the crest on your coach from his younger days in London and told—”

“Impossible!”

“He did,” Mary insisted. “He told me to find St. John in
London and kill him to avenge his death, avenge our children’s loss of their beloved father! It’s the only way my Samuel will rest in peace!”

Incredulous, Rebecca said, “Your husband died?”

The cold metal of the pistol stabbed against her cheek as Mary screeched, “Don’t pretend ignorance! You were there when it happened! You might even have fired the shot!”

Recalling that horrible afternoon in France and the race away from flying bullets, Rebecca said, “I was sprawled on the floor of the coach, hiding from all the shots being fired at us. I didn’t know anyone was hit. I was protecting my baby from being shot!”

Mary blanched, but then glanced down at Rebecca’s waist and frowned. “You aren’t showing, even a little. I don’t believe you’re pregnant.”

Rebecca almost laughed hysterically. She’d only
just
gotten rid of her thickened waist. It had taken a few days for the bloating to go away, but with Rupert no longer present and distracting her so much that she didn’t even notice what she was doing, she’d stopped stuffing herself with food.

Without that evidence, she was forced to say, “Neither does my husband. That’s why we’re estranged. He thinks I trapped him into this marriage, and the evidence that I didn’t is taking too long to show up! And the longer it takes, the more I hate him for doubting me.” That wasn’t true, but Mary appeared too interested for her to stop now. “I entered his life with a bang, but I left it with a whisper. He didn’t even try to stop me. But I thought he was in London. If he’s not there, I don’t know where he is. And I don’t care.”

Rebecca had to force the last words out. Tears nearly came to her eyes, but this was no time to get emotional!

“Then maybe I will kill him for both of us,” Mary declared.

Rebecca didn’t want Mary’s sympathy, she wanted her to see reason!

“He’s a rogue,” Rebecca said, “but he doesn’t deserve to die for it. I don’t understand how you can want revenge for your husband when he was in the wrong. He was supplying the weapons that were killing our own men in India. He would have been hung for treason, Mary.”

“No! That was war. There will always be casualties in war. Samuel did nothing wrong, yet those fools lied and got him kicked out of the army. They ruined us!”

Rebecca held her tongue as she realized that Mary hadn’t been ignorant of what her husband had done, after all. That left her only one possible way to reason with Mary—reminding the woman of her large brood of children.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mary. I’m even more sorry for your children. No matter Samuel’s crimes, he was a wonderful father, wasn’t he?”

“There could never be a better father,” Mary agreed as tears filled her eyes.

“That was so very obvious. It’s terrible to lose a parent, but I can’t imagine how horrible it will be for your children to lose both of their parents. Who will raise them and give them the love that you won’t be there to give them?”

“Stop it! They aren’t going to lose me!”

“They will if you continue down this path. Too many people will know. Will you kill us all?”

“If I must!” Mary snarled.

“I
really
wish she hadn’t said that,” Lilly complained as she kicked Mary’s legs out from under her.

The pistol fired as Mary fell, but thankfully the ball only
lodged in the wall. Though the pistol probably only had the one shot, Lilly still grappled with the woman to get it out of her hand. But Rebecca wasn’t watching her mother’s amazing display of derring-do. She was staring at Rupert, who had appeared in the doorway and was now charging across the room toward the struggling women.

He had come! Rebecca had been so sure he wouldn’t, but he was there and…what if he had come a minute sooner? She paled at the thought that if he’d entered the room when Mary had still been standing there with the pistol in her hand, he might now be dead.

But in seconds he had taken the weapon safely away from Mary and was helping both women to their feet. Mary was crying hysterically. Some of the servants had shown up because of the pistol’s report, and Rupert directed a footman to take Mary to another room and guard her there until the magistrate arrived.

Lilly, dusting her skirts, said drily, “A bit tardy, weren’t you, St. John?”

Rupert grinned at her. “It would appear you had everything quite under control. Very impressive, Lilly. And to think I actually thought that note you left for me was a bluff. Now I’m not so sure!”

Lilly blushed despite his teasing tone. Rebecca raised a brow at her mother. “What note?”

“I merely warned him of some unpleasant consequences if you weren’t allowed some peace.”

Rebecca blushed as well, knowing how frank her mother could be. She’d probably been quite threatening. “But you came anyway?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t?”

Since that was exactly what she’d thought, she clamped her mouth shut.

Rupert said, “This was my fault. I think now that I am a man of family, I will have to retire from assisting our mutual friend anymore. Repercussions of this sort can no longer be tolerated. It didn’t even help that I had a man watching the house. I suppose he can be forgiven for not thinking Mary Pearson could be a threat.”

“I knew about him,” Rebecca replied. “I found him hiding in the garden this morning. I took him some cookies.”

Rupert laughed. “Did you? How embarrassing for him, but that was probably my mother’s spy. Mine would have been better hidden!”