The Dangerous Love of a Rogue (16 page)

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Authors: Jane Lark

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #General

BOOK: The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
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Mark grinned. “Well, I was convinced.”

“Think what you will.”

Laughing, Mark and Harry walked off, probably to find somewhere to play cards, or a woman to torment.

Marlow’s judgement irked more than Drew cared to admit. Pembroke had cause to be against him, but her parents had none. Marlow’s views were based on hearsay; he ought to wait until he knew Drew to make a judgement. It was another seed thrown to grow in the bitterness that was a tangled forest inside him. He hated being rejected by people who thought themselves better than him. Marlow was not even trying to look for good. He’d judged Drew on ill-founded gossip.

Drew glimpsed his elder sister Lady Elizabeth Ponsonby across the room.

His reputation had been sealed before his birth. His damned name had dictated it – his family. Their reputation had preceded him and become his. He’d never had a choice. Failure and wickedness were expected of him.

While Mary’s family tended towards happy-ever-after his family raced towards hellfire and Elizabeth was one of the worst.

She sat on a sofa, set in an alcove, with her latest adoring youth beside her. She collected young men like other women collected hats. The poor child leaned over the arm of the sofa handing her a drink. While the tip of her fan slid up and down his crotch. Drew’s elder sister was crass, but no doubt the boy thought himself in love as Pembroke had once.

It was no wonder Pembroke judged Drew ill when he’d been entrapped by Elizabeth’s games in France. But Drew was not like Pembroke, Pembroke had arrived in Europe sheltered and blind – Drew had known from birth that promiscuity was not about love.

Nor was he like Elizabeth. He never spoke to her but he was tarred with her brush and his mother’s, and scarred by his father and brothers and ruined by his mother’s friends.

Faithlessness, uncaring, arrogance and self-gratification, were all expected of him and he had lived up to every expectation until he’d met Mary and been rejected by Pembroke’s duchess.

He wanted to be different now; he just did not know how to be different.

Looking at Marlow again Drew saw Mary being subjected to an interrogation. She shook her head again and again, clearly denying everything.

A vicious anger, which had plagued Drew since childhood, sliced into his gut.

He liked her lying through her teeth on his behalf and fighting with her father – standing up for
him
. A satisfying surge of pride gripped in his chest. He was important to her, he had become most important. It was a sense of domination. Control. He would ram Marlow’s ill opinion down his throat.

Mary would be Drew’s to protect and care for. Her family could go to hell if they did not accept him. Mary had accepted him, and if Marlow wished to throw stones then, he would be throwing them at Mary too. That would teach the man to judge – when it was his daughter he judged. Maybe then Marlow would open his bloody eyes and look for the truth.

Peter returned, a broad smile cutting his usual devil-may-care expression. “Damn she’s a gem, that pretty Miss Smithfield. I shall have to thank your future spouse for the introduction. I’m taking her driving tomorrow. Her Papa is as rich as Croesus. Perhaps it’s time I considered a leg shackle too.”

“You are rich yourself, you don’t need her money.” Drew shook his head at his friend’s foolishness. He’d lay heavy odds Peter had no inclination to marry the girl.

“True, but when a woman is so ripe for the picking…”

Drew laughed. “Well, you can save your courtship until tomorrow. I vote we vacate and head for a club, the others are already playing cards I’ll wager.”

“It’s not cards I am in the mood for. I’d rather search out more women.”

“While my aim for tonight is spirits. I need a drink,” Drew concluded.

Peter wrapped an arm about his shoulders. “My friend, a woman would ease your anxiety better…”

Chapter 9

Mary sat at her writing desk, her hand trembling so badly the quill tip scratched across the paper leaving a spider track instead of her usual neat hand.

John had business to attend to at his main country residence. He expected to be out of town for a couple of days. His house was within a day’s travel from London and so her parents had chosen to accompany him, to give the children some fresh air.

Most families left their younger children at home during the London season but her parents never had.

Mary had told her mother she would stay with Emily’s family. Of course she would not. Emily knew about the elopement. Mary had agreed her silence and then told her everything, knowing Emily would be too timid to judge or tell. The guilt of using a friend was another burden to add to her list.

Of course her parents assumed Mary would not lie and so they’d accepted an invitation Emily had written as proof and not questioned Emily’s family. People would think it lapse when they discovered the truth, but it was not lapse it was love that made them trust her.

Even after her father had seen her speaking with Drew, he’d assumed Drew had approached her. He’d chastised her and warned her to cut Drew, repeating all the reasons why Lord Framlington was unsuitable.

He’d not for one moment considered she would choose to speak to Drew.

Heat had burned her cheeks as she’d listened and declared he’d done nothing wrong.

She knew Drew. Her father did not.

He’d be disappointed with her when he found her gone, and her mother would be distressed and her aunts and uncles and cousins – and John – would all judge her badly.

Tears filled her eyes as she finished the note but she would not change her mind. She had not seen Drew for over a week but he’d written, passing her letters through the stable lad. He’d said he’d not attended entertainments to stop her father suspecting.

She desperately wanted to see Drew. Her thoughts constantly hovered on him.

Folding the letter, she sealed it.

Her heart raced. The emotional pendulum inside her swinging from expectation and excitement to guilt.

This would tear a rift in her family.

She even felt guilty for feeling happy.

She loved her family, desperately. She did not want to hurt them, but she was old enough to make her own choices. They would not allow her to marry Drew. This was the only way.

Mary left the letter on her desk, rose and walked to the window. She looked down on the street. Life carried on as normal, people hurried past and carriages rolled over the cobbles, the sound of the horses’ iron hooves ringing on stone, seeping through the glass.

It would be the same in five days when she had gone.

The world would not change – but her life would change.

She’d have a new home.

He’d said they’d live in his rooms until he received her dowry and then he would look for a property out of town.

She’d start a family with Drew.

Her arms folded over her chest and her vision clouded, then a tear escaped on to her lashes and ran down her cheek.

She was happy, it was just that so much would change.

She sighed wondering how his family would receive her. She had not even known he had a sister until the other night. Would they like her? The butterflies took flight in her stomach. She unfolded her arms and wiped away the tear.

A knock struck the door of her room, she’d left it ajar.

Mary turned to the desk and stood before it, to hide the letter. “Come in.”

A maid entered, she bobbed a curtsy, then rose, “Miss Marlow, Lady Marlow asked if you would come down to the sitting room. Lady Barrington and Lady Wiltshire have called.”

Two of Mary’s aunts.

Mary nodded.

As the maid left, Mary turned to the desk. There would be no going back once she’d sent the letter. Drew would make the arrangements and in five days’ time she’d leave her family and her home.

Her heart pounding, Mary reached for her shawl and wrapped it about her shoulders then concealed the letter beneath.

She took it to the stables before going to her mother.

* * *

Drew opened the door of his apartment and his gaze dropped to a letter lying at his feet. It must have been pushed beneath the door. He bent and picked it up.

Mary.

The stable boy must have delivered it.

Drew had spent the day with his friends, sparring in a boxing club, then they’d eaten luncheon at Whites, before going on to Tattersall’s to look at horses.

The letter could have been lying here for hours.

He lifted his hat from his head and tossed it onto the cabinet by the door. Then broke the seal on the letter and read it as he walked across the room.

His heart thumped.
My parents are going away
. A chill swept over his skin even though the day was warm.

They’d be gone for two days and two nights – plenty of time to get her away and irreversibly change the course of both their lives. After that long in his company, her family would have to approve the match.

I have told my parents I will stay with Miss Smithfield, but I shall not go there, and Emily knows that. So you may send a carriage to collect me. I shall say it is from Mr Smithfield, and then we can leave in the morning, when my parents and John leave. Emily has promised me she will not say a word to anyone…

It was perfect. Her plan could not have come together better.

He folded the letter and slipped it into his inside pocket, his heart still beating hard, and a smile pulling at one corner of his lips.

His gaze caught on the pile of bills lying on the cabinet beside his hat. They would be paid soon. No more borrowing from his friends and dodging the duns. He would have money…and he would have Mary.

* * *

“Papa, I love you,” Mary hugged her father as they stood in the hall.

Their luggage had been loaded on the four carriages standing before the house. One for John and Kate, their son and her eldest sisters. Mama and Papa were to travel in the second, with the boys and her youngest sisters, and the senior servants were to travel in the third.

The fourth was an unmarked hackney carriage Drew had sent.

This was her final goodbye, although her family did not know it.

Tears filled her eyes as her father held her. “We will only be gone two days, sweetheart.”

When she pulled away her tears clouded his reassuring smile.

He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. She accepted it and dabbed at her tears, but her tears did not cease.

“Are you upset over Lord Farquhar? There will be other men, and one who is right for you.”

She shook her head.

She’d not tried to convince them they were wrong about Lord Farquhar, it seemed easier to let them think her odd behaviour linked to that. “I am being silly, Papa. I’ll miss you that is all. Robbie and Harry spend months at a time away at college and here I am crying over two days.”

He hugged her firmly again. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

What if he despised her when he found out she’d lied?

Guilt cutting at her heart she drew away and kissed his cheek. He kissed hers too.

She turned to her mother.

Her mother’s eyes shimmered with tears also, as though she knew this was really goodbye.

Mary embraced her.

“I know you’re sad about Lord Farquhar but time will ease the pain, you’ll see, be patient. You are young. There will be other men.…”

“I know.” Mary wiped her nose with her father’s handkerchief. Her mother’s palms framed Mary’s face. Mary looked down, unable to hold her gaze.

“Sweetheart, one day you will be happy and settled, with your own family to care for.”

Noise came from the stairs, the voices of Mary’s younger siblings. She and her mother looked up, her mother’s hands slipped away.

The children’s governess appeared at the top of the stairs with a nursery maid who carried Mary’s youngest sister.

The children were all excited.

“Mary.”

Mary turned as John walked into the hall from the library.

“I’m sorry you’re not joining us.” He gave her a considerate smile.

She smiled too. John had been her hero from birth, despite his starchiness as he’d grown older.

She hugged him.

He’d be disgusted with her.

When she pulled away, she smiled brightly. “I’m sure you don’t care a jot whether I am there or not, you have Paul and Kate to absorb what time you have to spare.”

He laughed. “But Katherine does not chastise me as much as you do. You keep my feet firmly on the ground.”

“John!” His gaze lifted to the stairs, to Kate, his eyes glowing with adoration.

Mary hoped one day Drew would look at her like that.

John’s gaze returned to her. “Be careful, Mary.”

“Goodbye, John.”

When Kate reached the hall, Mary said goodbye to her, numbness setting in. Then in a daze she said farewell to her brothers and sisters before they were herded into the street to climb into the carriages.

Her father offered his arm. She took it.

When she stepped into the warm sunlight, her heartbeat raced.

She wished her eldest brothers, Robbie and Harry, had been at home too, so she could say goodbye, especially Robbie, the next in age to her. Robbie would never forgive her for keeping him in the dark.

What if her mother and father refused to let her into their home again?

That awful thought hit her as her foot touched the pavement.

She clung to her father’s arm.

He walked her to the carriage Drew had sent, while the footmen helped her brothers and sisters up into their carriages and John helped Kate with Paul.

What will I do if they never speak to me again?

“Mary.” Her father took her hand as they reached the carriage. “Are you sure you would not prefer to come with us? I’m sure Miss Smithfield would not—”

“No, Papa, I cannot let her down.” It had become too easy to lie.

Love shone in his eyes, but it became clouded by the tears in hers.

She hugged him, then rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek, before saying, “I’ll miss you.”

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