Lady Rosabella's Ruse (21 page)

Cold enveloped her.

Garth really couldn’t blame her for her misgivings or her wariness. He’d done his best over the years to ensure that even the most desperate of matchmaking mothers wouldn’t accept him, even if he crawled on his belly.

Fortunately, she’d shown him the cards in her hand and he’d played to them. Debts.

Large enough to make her desperate.

Even so, she’d bravely held her ground for longer than he had expected. Was there something behind her reluctance? Had Penelope revealed the circumstances of his birth? Mark knew. Had he told his wife? His back teeth ground together. Dammit, he didn’t care if she knew or not. The agreement was set.

She could think what she liked of him. He’d had his unworthiness drummed into him since he was a child. No woman had the power to hurt him, because he didn’t allow himself to feel. And if he produced a son as a result of his carelessness, then he’d find another way to make it up to Kit. He might be able to break the entail. It wasn’t as if his brother was relying on the title or the land, it had just seemed the right thing to do. A way of making up for stealing his brother’s birthright.

He glanced down at his wife to be. She looked none too happy. Might as well deliver all the bad news. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. ‘About the singing.’

She looked hopeful.

‘If you want your sisters to make good marriages, it is out of the question.’

Her face fell. The urge to comfort her took him by surprise.

‘There are lots of hostesses who have musical evenings. Once they hear your voice, I am sure you will be invited to sing, not for money admittedly, but people will want to hear you nonetheless.’

He hoped. Most of the
ton
’s hostesses shunned him as if he carried a disease. His own fault. Once he’d learned the truth about his birth, he’d shunned them and their trumped-up mores.

He would have to tell Rosabella that he wasn’t exactly considered good
ton
, but not until after the wedding. He wouldn’t give her an excuse to refuse him. Which was madness, since he should be glad she didn’t want to wed him. No. Not madness. No child of his would suffer what he had gone through.

‘Or we could have our own,’ she said more cheerfully. ‘You could invite your friends.’

His friends, most of them, were not the sort of men he wanted meeting his wife. He would have to enlist Mark’s help.

Or he could ask his mother.

He’d sooner be roasted on a spit over a slow fire than ask his dear mother for anything.

Too bad Kit had left England. He was probably the one person who would be happy to help, even if he was the person who should resent Garth the most. But Kit was abroad, so Mark it was. He hated asking his friend for help, when it seemed he had troubles of his own.

‘If you are having second thoughts,’ she said, pulling her nightgown on over her head, ‘I really would be quite happy to rejoin the opera company.’

Could she read his mind? He gritted his teeth. ‘I am not having second thoughts. I am just thinking about the best way to go about this.’

She leaned down and picked her discarded dressing gown from the floor. She turned her back and put it on, effectively distancing herself. He pretended not to notice, but rose naked from the bed and picked up his robe from the chair. He shrugged into it.

‘First thing in the morning, I will visit your grandfather and request his permission to wed you.’

‘Why? He cares nothing for what I do.’

‘Because it is expected and right. And it will help stem malicious gossip. I assume he has guardianship of your sisters until they are of age?’

‘No. He wanted nothing to do with us when my father died. I am their guardian.’

The whole thing was odd. To leave a young woman with so much responsibility and no wherewithal to carry it out. No wonder she had debts. ‘How old are you?’

‘Three and twenty.’

She said it as if that made her a woman of the world. ‘You are little more than a child.’

She shot him a glare and he wanted to laugh, but decided against it. He had her where he wanted her and women were unpredictable when their tempers were aroused. They threw things or cried. He hated tears. ‘Then we’ll ask for his blessing, if not his permission. He’ll give it, because he won’t want his name bandied around as the man who let his granddaughter be ruined.’

Suspicion filled her expression. ‘Do you have enough money to make good on your promises right away? My sisters’ need is urgent.’

‘I do. Give me a list of your debts first thing in the morning and my man of business will see to them immediately.’ Kit hadn’t kept his financial brilliance to himself and his generosity had filled Garth’s coffers very nicely, despite an expensive and dissolute lifestyle. He’d made sure of it for Kit’s sake.

‘Thank you.’ The words sounded heartfelt and full of relief. A considering expression crossed her face. ‘There is one other thing you could ask of my grandfather.’

Ah, here it came. The real reason for her sneaking around in Gorham Place. ‘What?’

‘My mother’s chest and my father’s writing desk. I’d like to have them as mementos.’

Surprised, he stared at her. Why would she want old furniture? Mementos of parents who had abandoned her? He shrugged. ‘I’ll ask.’

She glanced around his room. ‘Am I to stay at your house until we are married? It would probably be better if no one knows I am here. Unless you think it won’t matter?’

He hadn’t thought. And it did matter. She would have enough trouble with the high sticklers, without throwing their odd arrangement in their faces. ‘You are right. We will have to keep your presence here a secret. You won’t be able to be seen in public until we are wed, I’m afraid.’

‘Won’t your servants gossip?’

‘You will find them very discreet.’

‘I suppose they have to be.’

A niftily placed barb. He gritted his teeth. ‘Indeed.’ He glanced down at the pile of rags on the floor. The breeches and shirt she’d worn from the theatre. ‘Where are the rest of your clothes?’

‘I only brought one gown with me from Lady Keswick’s house. It is at my lodgings in St Giles, with my valise.’

‘I’ll collect it in the morning.’

She nodded. ‘Thank you.’

He put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Now, sweet betrothed of mine, let us go back to bed.’

She shook her head. ‘Not until after our contract is signed.’

The hackles on the nape of his neck rose. ‘Are you afraid I won’t keep my part of the bargain?’

‘Is it likely?’

She didn’t trust him and he didn’t blame her one bit. ‘No. Not likely, until I am tired of teaching you the art of lovemaking. That isn’t going to happen for a very long time.’ He brushed her mouth with his, then nipped her lip.

For all that she was trying to hide her desire, her eyes grew slumberous.

His body sprang to life. Impossible as it seemed, he was more than glad he was marrying this woman, even if it did ruin his plans.

All he had to do was make sure he didn’t take any chances. Keep firm control and spend outside of her body so if it turned out she wasn’t with child, everything would be perfect. He could have what he wanted and still keep to the promise he’d made to himself the night Christopher left England.

He gazed at her lovely face. She looked weary, as if she hadn’t slept well for many nights.

He reached out and took her hand and led her to the bed. ‘Lie in my arms and sleep. Tomorrow we will begin our explorations anew.’

He felt exceedingly pleased when she smiled and let him help her on to the bed. He wasn’t a boy without control; he could lay with her, enjoy the feel of her, without touching.

In time, she would come to trust him.

Garth awoke with a start to the sound of a clock chiming six somewhere below. His usual time to awake no matter what his activities the night before. He generally went riding in Hyde Park before it became crowded with people wanting to talk.

He rolled on his side to watch Rosabella curled up facing him, her cheek pillowed on her hand, breathing deep and untroubled. She looked like a child. Twenty-three. Viewed from his years of profligacy, she was terribly innocent, yet seemed much older, more self-assured than most of the débutantes he’d carefully avoided all these years.

A smile tugged at his lips. Clever enough to catch him in her web of lies and deceit. Why didn’t he care? Not that he’d let her deceive him again.

In winning her over, he’d made some promises that would not be easy to keep. No riding today. First he’d visit Mark and, depending on the outcome, would move on from there.

He hopped out of bed and went to his dressing room, where his valet was already waiting.

‘Good morning, my lord,’ Callen said.

‘Good morning, Callen. The lady in my bed is to be treated with the utmost respect since she will soon be your mistress and my wife.’

Callen’s jaw dropped. ‘Y-yes, my lord.’

‘I will inform the other servants on my way out.’

Callen bowed and began stropping the razor. ‘May I offer my congratulations, my lord?’

Garth looked at him for a minute. Tested whatever it was unfurling in his chest. The pleasant knowledge of sharing his life, his hopes and ambitions, as well as his bed. Waking up beside Rosabella had apparently filled a void he hadn’t known existed.

Surprised, he sat down in the chair in front of the mirror. ‘Yes, Callen. I believe congratulations are indeed in order.’

After a visit with his man of business to ensure he had enough ready funds on hand to pay off Rosabella’s debts when he received her accounting, Garth found himself at Mark’s front door in Golden Square, confronting his friend’s cheery butler. ‘His lordship isn’t available to callers.’

Garth forked over a crown. ‘Nonsense, Steed. He’ll see me.’ He pushed inside the door.

‘Wait here,’ the butler said, pointing to a carved wooden chair against the wall. ‘I’ll enquire if he is up.’

Garth followed the man down the hall, practically stepping on his heels, and was through the dining-room door before the man could speak.

Mark was eating breakfast, dressed and ready for the day. ‘Off to the Home Office?’ Garth asked, sitting down and helping himself to a piece of toast.

Mark glared at him, then nodded at the butler. ‘That will be all, Steed.’

The man withdrew and closed the door.

‘How’s the chin?’ Mark growled, setting his paper aside.

Garth touched his jaw. ‘Never better.’ He reached for the coffee pot.

‘Why the hell didn’t you bring my wife home when you found her?’

Still brooding about that. Still suspicious. Garth leaned back against the chair and grinned at the surly face of his friend. Mark had grown possessive since his marriage and Garth couldn’t resist the urge to needle him. ‘You mean you wanted me to manhandle your wife kicking and screaming into my carriage? Or perhaps you wanted me to seduce her into coming back to London with me?’

Mark straightened. ‘You put one finger on my wife—’

‘I was more concerned about not allowing anyone else to put their fingers on her. Not that she showed any interest,’ he added hastily as Mark started to rise. He had no wish to drop Penelope in the soup. He didn’t care a fig about the girl. She was a stupid little chit who didn’t recognise a good man when she found one. They never did from his observation over the years. But he didn’t want to see his friend hurt so he kept his own counsel about Bannerby.

Mark sank back on to his seat. ‘It’s a bloody mess. She refuses to say why she went there in the first place. Or who she was meeting.’

‘I don’t think she was meeting anyone. She turned up with Maria Mallow. You know what a troublemaker she is. Where were you?’

‘On a mission for the Home Office. I had to escort a woman to Yorkshire. She had information about these troublemakers at the mills. I had to talk to some people she knows.’

‘A woman?’

Mark absently rearranged the cutlery set out before him. ‘Yes, a woman. Damned if I like the idea, but she’s well placed with the ringleaders.’

‘You don’t think Penelope saw you with this woman?’

Mark’s head shot up. ‘Of course not. Do you think I’m an idiot? I took every precaution to ensure the mission was secret.’

‘Maybe she doesn’t like you keeping secrets. After all, aren’t you two supposed to be in love?’

What the hell was he doing, asking that sort of question? He didn’t believe in love. Damn Rosabella and her sentimental talk. He put up a hand when Mark opened his mouth to reply. ‘It’s none of my business. I came to ask for help.’

The door opened. ‘Mark? Oh!’ The lady of the house gasped. ‘I didn’t know you had company.’

Penelope looked from Mark to Garth and he was surprised to see the shadows in her pretty green eyes. And there were circles beneath, like bruises. All was not well. No wonder Mark looked so morose.

‘It’s only Garth,’ Mark said. ‘Come to ask a favour. I was about to tell him to go to hell.’