A Rogue of My Own (6 page)

R
EBECCA WAS ON HER
way back to the front of the ballroom where she’d left Evelyn when a bright powder-blue satin jacket caught her eye. She quickly wound her way through the crowd for a better view.

It was indeed Rupert St. John in his dandy costume. He must have arrived while she’d been talking to Sarah. Even with his back turned to her while he leaned with one arm against the wall, she caught a glimpse of the side of his handsome face. He was with a woman. She could see a wide skirt pressed against his knees as he hovered over the lady. Though his shoulder blocked the woman’s face from view, the woman was apparently leaning back against the wall, no doubt looking up at Rupert with rapt attention.

He laughed, then leaned down to whisper something to the woman. Rebecca thought she heard a girlish giggle. He was obviously flirting with the woman. Well, she
had
heard vague allusions to his being a renowned skirt-chaser. It didn’t look vague to her, looked quite obvious. Rebecca told herself it was no concern of hers if his halo got a little tarnished in her mind.

She started to turn away, but Rupert straightened up, taking his hand off the wall. That gave her an unobstructed view of the woman he was flirting with. Rebecca just had trouble believing her eyes. Elizabeth Marly? Good God, he was flirting with her roommate?

Rebecca turned about with a huff, feeling—she wasn’t sure how she felt. Angry? Certainly not. Indignant? Whatever for? But she couldn’t for the life of her think what Rupert St. John could find attractive in such a mean, petty girl. He probably didn’t know what she was like. And Elizabeth had looked rather pretty with her adoring expression. Well, more fool him!

Rebecca went back to where she’d left Evelyn, but her new friend wasn’t there. She was on the floor dancing. Rebecca waited a few minutes to see if the musical piece the orchestra was playing would soon end, but it didn’t, and she really had no reason to stay, she realized. She wouldn’t be asked to dance because of her costume.

Feeling a bit forlorn, she made her way slowly to the door. She could stay to listen to the music, at least. The orchestra was the best she’d ever heard. They would have to be exceptionally good, she guessed, to play in the palace.

“Leaving so soon?”

For once, Rebecca wasn’t struck speechless by Rupert’s sudden presence as he fell into step beside her. He was just a man, albeit an extremely handsome one. Tall, strapping, oh, God, he was beautiful, a pinnacle of perfection in every way—but just a man nonetheless. His tarnished halo proved that.

“Yes, as it happens, I am definitely leaving,” she replied tartly. “I feel out of place in this manly costume, which your
friend
arranged for me to wear.”

“Nigel?” he asked in surprise.

“No, I told you, I don’t know who that is.”

“Then which friend are you displeased with?”

“Elizabeth Marly.”

“Ah, yes, little Beth. A delightfully artificial chit. She has no knack for duplicity. Quite easy to figure out. You on the other hand…”

He didn’t finish. He took her hand and led her to the middle of the ballroom. He was going to dance with her? Indeed, he kept her hand in his, put his other hand on her waist, and began to twirl them along to the exuberant melody of the current waltz.

How daring of him! Or did he forget she was wearing breeches? No, she had just mentioned her costume to him, so apparently he didn’t care.

“Much better,” he said as he glanced at the other couples who were watching them. “It is my bane to be gossiped about. But a dance is irrelevant and can occur for any number of reasons that have nothing to do with choice.”

It took her only a moment to grasp his meaning. “So walking with me is a matter of
your
choice, since I certainly wasn’t dragging you along with a chain to keep you at my side. But dancing can be no more than satisfying the demands of proper etiquette.”

“Precisely! I knew you were smart as a whip, m’dear.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be wary of that compliment. It could imply he hadn’t believed a word of her earlier excuse, and come to think of it, the warning he’d given her before she’d flown out the door of Nigel’s room said as much. Yet he’d let her go. Why?

She wasn’t going to ask, though. She could be attributing
more intelligence to
him
than he possessed. In fact, much of what he’d said to her could be attributed to his being a skirt-chaser. Good God, he wasn’t subtly trying to seduce her, was he?

“So,” he began.

He looked down and his eyes met hers now. It was quite disconcerting when he turned his full attention to her like this. And was the hand he had on her waist caressing her there!? He’d placed it under her jacket rather than on top of it, so no one could tell that it wasn’t perfectly still as was proper—except her. Was it her imagination? Or was skirt-chasing so ingrained in him that he found it quite natural to caress a woman—any woman—in his arms?

Heat spread through her body. She could feel it on her face, though she didn’t think she was blushing. This tarnished Angel was indeed dangerous to her senses!

He continued, “Am I going to have your mentor breathing down my back? For keeping you from finding that scarf?” he added in a tone that said they both knew she hadn’t been sent to fetch any silly scarf.

So much for thinking he was on the path of seduction. This was going to be an interrogation! Very well, she was up to the task.

“No, I lied to her. I said you were short, fat, and dressed in a monk’s robe.”

She realized immediately that she shouldn’t have said that. It was a confession that Sarah had wanted information about him. It was also a confession that she’d lied to him.

But his brow went up in surprise, then he grinned. “Did you really tell her that?”

Since the only thing about him that seemed dangerous at
the moment was his seductive charm, she saw no reason to lie. “She makes it sound as if you and your friend are criminals. I prefer to judge for myself.”

“I suppose you gave her my name though?”

“When I didn’t believe the name you gave me?”

“I appreciate your honesty, but
what
do you find wrong with my name?”

She didn’t answer immediately. She asked instead, “Do you realize the sensation you cause?”

She’d noticed how every eye in the room came back to him repeatedly. Men and women alike seemed fascinated by him. Some people were even tripping on the dance floor because they couldn’t take their eyes off him.

“Do you really think I could miss it?” he replied drily.

“Well, you see my point then?”

“What point? Am I a mind reader now? Usually a point is made before it’s mentioned.”

He was being facetious. Mere banter? She wasn’t adept at that, not in the least. The socializing she and her mother had done over the years hadn’t been with young men, and certainly not with prime seducers like her tarnished Angel. Besides, she preferred real conversation, not pointless repartee that went nowhere and revealed nothing.

But she shrugged, allowing him
his
point. “I would have thought you’d have a more exotic name, one that matched the way you look.”

He chuckled. “So now I’m exotic? I suppose that’s better than a hungry wolf.”

She grinned as well. Maybe she could get used to bantering after all. He certainly made an excellent teacher.

“It’s all a matter of perception, isn’t it?” she quipped.

“Well, damn me, I find I must agree. You should stop surprising me. I’m becoming quite intrigued.”

She finally blushed. He finally lost his jocular air and added, “Do you have anything else to impart about tonight’s debacle, before I proceed to my dire warnings?”

She was given pause, not over the “warnings,” which she didn’t take seriously, but over the question. Was all the banter intended to lower her guard so she’d answer him by rote? She recalled what Evelyn had said about distracting someone prior to asking a serious question. How very spylike.

But Rebecca had already concluded that Sarah Wheeler was the one in the wrong tonight. The lady had even admitted the task had been personal in nature, rather than political, so Rebecca saw no reason not to let him know how serious Sarah was about pursuing whatever it was she was after.

“She thought I should woo you into removing the mask I told her you were wearing.”

She’d managed to surprise him yet again, to go by his expression and the lambent look that entered his eyes. “That sounds entirely too interesting. You have my rapt attention. Woo away.”

“I wouldn’t know how,” she admitted, lowering her head and suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Move a little closer, m’dear. I promise I’ll get the message.”

Her head shot back up. “You’re entirely too bold, Rupert St. John.”

“I know. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. She supposed this Rupert was much preferable to the dangerous one she’d briefly met in Nigel’s room. But which was the real St. John?

Aware that the dance was going to end at any moment, she said, “Now it’s my turn. Are you really a spy?”

“Good God, do you really think I’d say so if I was?” he replied, aghast, which was obviously feigned.

“I thought we were being honest.”

“No, you are being honest. I’m merely being delighted by it.”

Rebecca gritted her teeth. He’d finally managed to provoke her ire with his evasiveness. She stopped dancing, pulled away from his hands, and walked away.

But she heard him call softly after her, “Wait! You haven’t heard my dire warnings!”

“Keep them,” she shot back. “I wouldn’t believe them anyway.”

Did he have to laugh at that?

A
LATE NIGHT FOR YOU?”
Nigel asked the following day as he nudged Rupert awake.

Rupert sat up instantly, furious with himself for having fallen asleep in Nigel’s room, of all places, while he waited for the older man to show up. He couldn’t bear the thought of Nigel standing there looking down at him while he slept, and he had no doubt Nigel had done so.

The trouble was, Rupert’s current task of investigating the new ladies of the court was simply too easy, which led to boredom. No danger was involved. While he was quite skilled for the task due to his reputation with women, he preferred assignments that involved some risk. He never fell asleep in the middle of the day when he was armed and ready for anything.

“No,” Rupert answered, and relaxed slightly. “Sitting around here half the day waiting for you put me to sleep. I suppose I could report in the middle of the night, when I can be assured you’re here.”

“So I must lose sleep when you could have simply left me a note?”

“There’s the rub, notes in your room are no longer an option,” Rupert replied, unable to stifle a yawn. He shook his head sharply to finish waking up. “Leaving your room open to give me access to it is no longer advisable either, not unless you’re in it.”

“I’ve been busy, or I would have already had that extra key made for you.”

“Then keep the door locked until you do. Or do you like having your room searched?”

The only reason Nigel left his door unlocked was so Rupert wouldn’t have to wait for him in the hall where someone might see him. He didn’t even want the palace servants to link them together in any way. He was fanatic about it. And now Rupert was going to have to confess that someone had indeed found him there.

But Nigel was amused, drawing the wrong conclusion. “Oh, my, you actually searched my room?”

“Don’t be absurd. And we might as well get the business at hand out of the way first because the Marly chit is expecting to meet me in the Royal Garden this afternoon.”

Nigel nodded. “I have another appointment myself, so we can keep this as brief as you like. You’ve drawn new conclusions, I take it?”

“Yes, two of the new maids are firmly in Sarah’s camp, the same two who fancy themselves in love with me,” Rupert complained with a roll of his eyes.

“Already?”

“You expected it to happen?”

“Don’t be obtuse,” Nigel said. “You know very well women fall in love with you daily. Of course I expected it.”

Rupert laughed. “A bit of an exaggeration there, eh, old man?”

“Hardly. Even Sarah Wheeler was in love with you earlier in the year when you turned your charms on her, one of those amazing feats you’re capable of.” Nigel chuckled. “I never understood how you accomplished that, when you said you didn’t have to make love to her.”

“I convinced her that I found her fascinating in other ways. It doesn’t always have to be about physical attraction, you know. I worked towards friendship. It went on long enough that she began to look beyond that, is all.” Rupert didn’t add that Nigel should know better than anyone else how the stronger emotions could unexpectedly overwhelm a person, which had happened with Sarah. “Friends lower their guard in the same way lovers do, you know.”

“What about the third young lady?”

“Constance? She resents Sarah’s ‘errands’ and has taken a firm dislike to the lady because of it. A prime candidate for you, one would think.”

“There’s a but in that?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t advise taking advantage of her resentment and trying to lure her to your camp. She doesn’t strike me as very competent. Not much up here”—Rupert tapped his head—“if you know what I mean. As for Lady Elizabeth, I searched her room before she was assigned a new roommate. There was nothing in it but a god-awful lot of clothes. I suppose I’ll have to do so again, now that her roommate has arrived. She complained to me about it last night.”

“The newest maid of honor to arrive?”

“That would be my guess and I believe I’ve even met her. But one last thing about Elizabeth. You’ll need to keep an eye on her after I’m gone. She confessed that she caused a scandal
to get rid of her last roommate,
just
so I could visit her in her room if I so chose. She might have resorted to drastic measures because of her infatuation with me, but my instincts tell me that she is completely lacking in morals. So she could bring the same underhanded means to her work for Sarah.”

“Duly noted. And the last maid you met? Why aren’t you sure she is Elizabeth’s new roommate?”

Rupert wasn’t about to admit that the chit had distracted him to such an extent that he’d neglected to confirm her name. He couldn’t imagine who else she could be, though, when she’d been invited to the ball last night and admitted her association with Sarah. Despite the costume she’d worn, he had no doubt that she was a lady born.

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure that she is Rebecca Marshall, who was expected to arrive yesterday. There were too many other things to find out about her, considering how I met her.”

Nigel raised a curious brow. “Why does that sound ominous?”

“Because I met her right here as she was rifling through your belongings at Sarah’s behest.”

Nigel’s scowl was immediate. “So Sarah is turning the ladies under her charge into thieves now? How dare she!”

“Careful, the rivalry is showing.” Rupert grinned.

“The devil it is,” Nigel snorted. “We’re talking about stealing. Sarah really is going too far now.”

Rupert had to laugh at the spymaster’s hypocrisy. “You’ve turned me into a thief on more’n one occasion, so wherein lies the difference?”

“What you steal is a matter of royal security and you are your own man. You also replace anything you take after examining it. Besides, you could refuse any job you are
uncomfortable with. But these are innocent young ladies who don’t know any better.”

“Would the girl have found any sensitive information?”

“Not unless you dropped off something prior to her arrival, otherwise I never leave anything of import in here even when the room
is
locked.”

“I was dropping off the briefing I just gave you, in written form, but after finding the chit in your room, I decided to deliver an oral report. This maid of honor is smart, and adept, which is why I hesitate to make any rash judgments about her. Her excuse came out too readily and was quite believable, the way she presented it.”

Nigel sighed. “So she has linked you to me. So much for you being the least bit useful on this assignment, now that Sarah has been informed. She’s likely to want revenge now, too, when she realizes that your friendship with her was a farce to gather information.”

Rupert steepled his hands and tapped his fingers on his chin a few times before he replied thoughtfully, “I’m not so sure that Sarah was told.”

“Are you joking?”

“No, Rebecca Marshall and I had an unusual conversation later at the ball. She claims she gave Sarah a false description of me and didn’t volunteer my name. As you know, I’m too well known to try to use a false name unless I’m in another country.”

“What reason did she give for protecting you?”

Rupert was given pause and even frowned. “Protecting me?”

“Because if you believe her, that’s exactly what she did in keeping your identity from Sarah.”

“Ah, but there’s the rub, whether to believe her. Keep in mind, I said she’s smart. She’s too quick with her replies not to
have more intelligence than I’m used to encountering in these young chits. She’s even quicker to dissemble emotions as needed. She’s actually prime material for you to mold, if she was telling the truth.”

“What do your instincts tell you?”

“For once, I haven’t a clue,” Rupert admitted with a sigh. “But I’m not going to discount that she could have a knack for lying and artifice. She surprised me a number of times. I’m not used to that happening.”

“Then what was her reason for not serving you up to Sarah on a platter?”

“
If
she really didn’t. She claimed that Sarah had made it sound like you and I are criminals, but she’d prefer to judge for herself.”

“Meaning she might try to investigate you on her own?” Nigel guessed.

Rupert chuckled. “That actually sounds like fun.”

Nigel rolled his eyes. “You’re too used to deceit of that sort, since you practice it yourself. Let’s remember who she is and that she only just arrived at the palace. Sarah’s prime tactic with these young ladies is to make them think everything she does is for the good of the country. Did you assure her that that isn’t the case?”

“Our conversation didn’t progress that far.”

“Well, if that’s all last night was about, the chit’s thinking she was doing something noble, then there was no harm done. But before we let this matter rest,” Nigel continued, “confirm her identity. Second, make sure she’s finished with Sarah’s intrigues. Third, draw some damn conclusions about Rebecca Marshall. You know the rules. Whatever it takes is acceptable. If she is as adept at deceit as you say she could be, I don’t want her in the palace. I’ll see that she’s dismissed myself.”

Rupert had stiffened at the phrase
whatever it takes.
It brought back his worst memory. Nigel had stressed that phrase when he had enlisted Rupert to aid his country. Rupert had been chosen because the French official they needed information from was a bloody deviant. The man had no interest in women, or men, but he was overly fond of pretty young boys. And he was at the root of a plot to kill the French king and have it blamed on King George IV, which could ultimately have led to war.

Rupert had been torn by one of the most horrible conflicts anyone, let alone a boy of fourteen, could face, to sacrifice himself or turn his back on his country. He couldn’t agree to do what was being asked of him, yet he would be a coward in his own mind if he refused.

But he’d figured out how to accomplish the goal without making the sacrifice when he recalled one of his mother’s parlor maids. Earlier that year, the wench had had him all but slobbering at her feet, she had aroused his lust to such a dangerous level. So much teasing, always teasing, but never delivering. Fourteen years of age and new to amour, Rupert had been ready to promise her the world, he’d been so inflamed.

The wench never did deliver. Neither did Rupert during that assignment. He’d used the maid’s tactics to get the job done. He’d promised, but never delivered.

Angry with himself for allowing that memory to surface, he stood up to leave. Nigel might have been hard-nosed in telling him to do “whatever it takes,” but Rupert rarely had to resort to that in his work for Nigel. He could use his nobility to his advantage as well as his reputation as a skirt-chaser, as his uncle the Duke of Norford had fondly termed his adoration of women. If a woman expected him to seduce her, well, by all means…

Nigel should have figured out by now that Rupert would do things his own way, not Nigel’s way. Keeping his anger from showing, Rupert looked directly at the older man and said, “I understand that country comes first. I’ve always understood that. But country can be served without giving up every sense of decency. It’s called finding the balance you can stomach. It’s called using your head to find a solution you can live with, instead of the first obvious solution. I’ll find out if the lady fed me a pack of lies, but I’ll do it my way.”

“I don’t know why I continue to use you,” Nigel said petulantly. “You never do as you’re told.”

“Ah, but I get the job done anyway, don’t I?” Rupert chuckled on his way out the door.