The Marriage Trap (8 page)

“You really ought to rest in your bed,” said Ash. “The wound is in an awkward place. Any slight movement will open it again.”

Jack threw off his manservant and sat up. “God, you two belong in the Inquisition! It was only a scratch! Now you've made it start bleeding again. You should have warned me you were going to douse me in brandy.” To Coates, he went on, “One more trick like that and you'll be looking for another position.”

Ash winked at Coates. “Is he always such a baby?”

Coates's only answer was a prudent smile. “If you're done here, my lord,” he said, “I shall make breakfast.”

As Coates withdrew, Jack reached for a pad of folded linen and shoved it under his arm. “Now bind me up,” he said, “with enough pressure to keep the damn thing from slipping.”

Ash did as he was told. “My, my,” he said, “you are in a foul humor this morning. What happened last night between you and our lady of mystery?”

“Nothing happened.” Jack reached for the clothes Coates had laid out for him and began to dress. “I started to bleed like a pig. She left. That's all there was to it.”

Ash grinned. “That explains the foul temper.” He lounged against the table, arms folded across his chest. “Who is she, Jack?”

“Aurora. That is all she told me.” He was buttoning his shirt and his fingers stilled as a memory came back to him—the catch in her breath just before his lips covered hers, the warm glow in her eyes when he handled her intimately. He was well aware that she'd tricked him to get to her bag, but he had the experience to know that her passion wasn't a sham. The lady had been caught in her own trap.

Ash said, “Now what am I to make of that smile?”

Jack erased the smile, but traces of it lingered in his eyes. “It's been a long time since I've liked a woman half as well.”

“‘Liked' or ‘lusted after'?”

“Liked,” responded Jack emphatically. “Oh, the lust was there, on both sides, but I started to bleed like a pig, and that was that.”

“I hope you rewarded her for her trouble.”

“Just the opposite. See for yourself. There's a banknote on the sideboard.”

Ash walked to the sideboard, rooted around for a moment or two, and came up with the thousand franc banknote. Holding it up to the window, he read, “For services rendered.” He looked at Jack. “What ‘services'?”

Jack sat on the bed and carefully pulled on his boots. “She went off with my cloak, so it could be payment for that, or because I rescued her during the riot.”

“Well, I'll be damned! You're smitten, aren't you?”

“‘Smitten'?” Jack sighed. “I said I
liked
her. She has a sense of humor.” He was remembering the jaunty wave she had given him on her way out of the courtyard. “Don't read more into it than that.”

“Well, I think it's a shame.”

“What is?” Jack was attempting to tie his neckcloth and not doing a good job of it. “Help me?” he said. “I can't raise my arm for that cursed bandage.”

Ash took over. His face all innocence, he said, “If it weren't for the fact that she's a demirep, my nose would be smelling orange blossoms.”

Teeth bared, Jack replied, “Go on in that vein and I'll put your pretty nose out of commission. Besides—”

“What?”

He'd been about to say that it was quite possible that Aurora was not a demirep, but he knew that such a declaration would only add coals to the fire, so he said instead, “I don't know who she is or where she came from.”

“And you're not going to try to find her?”

“I'm thinking about it.”

“Well, don't leave it too late, or I may find her first. You see, Jack, you've made Aurora sound intriguing. Do you suppose she might be interested in a penniless lordling such as myself?”

“On my estate,” Jack said pleasantly, “we don't prosecute poachers, we shoot them.”

They were both laughing when Coates announced a visitor, Lord Sedgewick, who wanted to speak to Jack in private. “I put him in the salon,” said Coates.

Jack looked at Ash, shrugged, then left the room. He remembered Lord Sedgewick from the embassy ball. What he remembered best was that he was married to that ghastly woman with the galloping tongue.

Lord Sedgewick greeted him stiffly, refused the offer of coffee, and remained standing.

“How may I help you?” asked Jack. The older man's stiffness made him wary.

“I'm here on behalf of my daughter's companion, Miss Hill,” said Sedgewick.

Jack nodded. “The lady I danced with at the ball last night.” He refrained from adding
the lady with the venomous tongue.
“What about her?”

“She swears that she was with you in your rooms at the Palais Royal late last night.”

It was the last thing Jack expected to hear and he was momentarily speechless, but as the significance of Sedgewick's words sank in, he said violently, “That's a lie! I was with another lady whose name I prefer to keep to myself.”

“‘Aurora'? That's what Miss Hill told me you would say. That's the name she gave you.”

Jack stared at his lordship, then said harshly, “I don't know what game Miss Hill is playing, but she's way off the mark if she thinks I would confuse her with the woman I was with last night. There's no comparison.”

Sedgewick's bloodhound eyes were not unsympathetic. “Yes, she said that, too, and asked me to give you this.”

Over his arm, he carried a folded cloak. As he handed it to Jack, he said, “I believe this belongs to you.”

Jack accepted it automatically. “All this proves,” he said doggedly, “is that Aurora and Miss Hill know each other. Aurora must have given her my cloak.”

“It's possible,” his lordship said without conviction. “But there's more at stake than you realize. I'll tell you about it on our way to the hotel where we're putting up.”

A sleety rain was falling, so they took a hackney to the hotel. In short, precise sentences, Lord Sedgewick apprized Jack of the salient facts. What it amounted to was that Miss Hill was in need of an alibi for the precise hour of four o'clock that morning, when Lady Cardvale was awakened by her maid's scream.

“Someone broke into Lady Cardvale's dressing room and was discovered by the maid,” Lord Sedgewick said. “That's where the maid sleeps, you see. The poor girl was knocked on the head and the thief got away with the Cardvale diamonds.”

Jack was incredulous. “And you suspect Miss Hill?”

“Not I,” responded Lord Sedgewick. “But she was nowhere to be found when a search was made of the hotel, and when she did turn up, there was blood on her gown. Lady Cardvale is an excitable woman and, I'm sorry to say, my wife is not much better. They jumped to the conclusion that it must be the maid's blood. That's when Ellie, Miss Hill, told us she'd been with you at four o'clock this morning.”

Jack felt as though a noose had tightened around his neck.

He'd looked at his watch at four o'clock when he was with Aurora. If Miss Hill and Aurora were the same person, some lunatic might expect him to do the honorable thing and offer to marry her. Not that he would. He'd rather renounce his estates and title than marry a woman who had deliberately set out to catch him in her net. And if Aurora was Miss Hill, that's what it would amount to.

He thought he was wise to every feminine trick. . . .

He stopped right there. The thought was preposterous. There had to be some other explanation. It was true that Miss Hill wasn't nearly as docile as she appeared at first glance. He'd discovered that when he danced with her, but she wasn't anything like Aurora.

Aurora was feminine, intriguing, captivating. From the moment she had walked into the Café des Anglaises, he could hardly stop staring. Part of her allure was that she wanted to be left alone, and he had resolved to change her mind.

When he tried to picture Miss Hill, he couldn't quite bring her into focus. Before she'd opened her mouth, he remembered thinking that she had a trim little figure under her frumpy gown. But a trim little figure couldn't make up for that viper's tongue.

If Aurora and Miss Hill turned out to be the same person, they could hang, draw and quarter him before he would marry such a deceiving jade.

Ellie's head was beginning to ache. She'd been up all night, without a wink of sleep, and now the maids were serving coffee and rolls. She was nervous, waiting for the moment when Lord Sedgewick would appear at the door with Jack. She was sure that Jack would support her alibi—that went without saying. But that wasn't the same thing as supporting
her.
No man liked to be duped. What she feared was losing his good opinion, but that was Aurora speaking. He already disliked Ellie Hill, and she didn't know why it mattered to her.

They'd had a short respite to wash and dress for the new day, then they'd returned to Lady Sedgewick's parlor to wait for Lord Sedgewick and Jack. Cardvale, who was sitting in the chair closest to the fire, was lost in his own private thoughts. Dorothea and Lady Sedgewick were on the other side of the fire, heads close together, conversing in whispers, and Harriet, whom Ellie considered her staunchest ally, had been sent away, as though she were too innocent to hear the salacious details of Ellie's adventure with Lord Raleigh. And that's what Ladies Sedgewick and Cardvale were hoping for—a salacious scandal to titillate their appetite for the seamier side of life.

They would be disappointed. Nothing much had happened, and Jack, she knew, would not elaborate on the simple facts. Not that it mattered. Alibi or no alibi, her reputation was in tatters. No respectable young woman would show her face in the Palais Royal at night, let alone accompany a man of the world to his rooms. The fact that she'd gone with him to escape the riot did not signify, not with these two ladies. They would have been happier if she had allowed herself to be trampled to death.

She'd kept Milton's name out of it and she hoped he had the good sense to stay away. For one thing, she was with Jack at the crucial time, and for another, she didn't want to be accused of corrupting the morals of the young. Milton was, after all, only eighteen years old.

Dear Lord, she had a lot to answer for, dragging a blameless young man into a salacious scandal. She should never have allowed him to act as her escort.

She knew what was in store for her. She would lose her job without a reference, and the knowledge made her defiantly determined not to show how desperate she felt. Having nothing to lose, she hadn't bothered to dress with her usual care. She'd left off the powder that made her look older, left off the lace cap, and had covered her plain gray crepe gown with a crimson stole. It wasn't all bravado. Though she wasn't nearly as elegant as Aurora, she wanted Jack to see that there was more to Ellie Hill than the nondescript lady's companion he'd met at the embassy ball.

She was doing it again, trying to impress Jack, and that made her impatient with herself.

When the door opened, she looked up. Lord Sedgewick entered first, then Jack. He paused on the threshold and let his gaze roam over each of them. He dominated the room, not because of his dark good looks, or because he projected an air of confidence, but because he held himself with the stillness of a predator selecting its prey.

When that pitiless gaze came to rest on her, she controlled a panicked shudder. She'd seen his face softened with charm and good humor, but that was last night, when she was playing the part of Aurora. This morning, his high cheekbones and the line of his jaw were all angles and planes.

He was livid, and she couldn't understand it. She'd expected him to be annoyed, though she'd hoped he would be amused. This excess of emotion, banked though it was, seemed out of proportion to her offense.

He sauntered over and took the chair next to hers. He spoke through his teeth. “I hardly recognize you, Miss Hill. Or should I call you ‘Aurora'?”

“‘Miss Hill' will do,” she replied, her eyes not quite meeting his.

“Well,” said Lord Sedgewick, who had yet to sit down, “is Miss Hill the lady you entertained last night? Can you give her an alibi for four o'clock this morning?”

“Not so fast,” said Jack. “I want to know exactly what's going on.”

“I told you,” said Sedgewick. “There was a robbery—”

“Before that,” Jack interjected. He looked at Ellie. “What were you doing at the Palais Royal?”

She had no intention of telling anyone about the gaming house, so she told him exactly what she'd told the others. “I had heard so much about the Palais Royal at night that I wanted to see it for myself. I never imagined that it would be dangerous. Had there not been a riot, I would have come straight home.”

She could see that her answer did not satisfy him, and was vastly relieved when he went off on another tack. “What exactly was stolen?”

Lord Sedgewick shrugged and sat down. “Cardvale can tell you about that.”

Lord Cardvale took a mouthful of coffee before responding. “The Cardvale diamonds—that's a necklace that has been in the family for generations and was the only thing of real value.”

His wife interjected, “What about my betrothal ring? The thief took that, too, a ruby set in gold.”

Cardvale nodded. “And some smaller items: a silver pin with the Cardvale crest. What else, Dorothea?”

“A leather purse with fifty gold guineas!”

“What about banknotes?” asked Jack.

At the mention of banknotes, Ellie straightened. Jack was watching her with an ironic twist to his lips. He must have known that her pochette was stuffed with banknotes. Did he think she'd stolen them before the robbery?

Cardvale shook his head. “No banknotes.”

Sedgewick said, “We are still waiting to be told whether Miss Hill is the lady you know as ‘Aurora.' Was she with you at precisely four o'clock this morning?”

In a languid tone, Jack replied, “Oh, I don't think there is any doubt about that, so you will have to look elsewhere for your thief.”

Ellie went weak with relief. At least she wouldn't be charged with robbery or attempted murder.

Jack's assurances did not placate Lady Sedgewick. “Is that the only explanation we are to have? That Miss Hill was with you when someone broke in and stole Lady Cardvale's diamonds?”

“My man will confirm the time if you need another witness.”

“That's not the point.” Her ladyship's ample bosom quivered with the tumult of her emotions. “What I want to know is how that blood got on her gown.”

Jack looked bored. “I have no idea. Why don't you ask Miss Hill?”

For a moment or two, Ellie was mystified. What difference did it make how the blood got on her dress? The important thing was that it was not the maid's blood, could not be the maid's blood because she'd been with Jack when the diamonds were stolen. As the thought revolved in her mind, a wave of heat spread through her.
Virgin blood
—that's what they were thinking, though they were too refined to say it. They thought Jack had dishonored her, and if Cardvale came to believe it, he might challenge Jack to a duel.

Her hands clenched. “I told you,” she said fiercely, “it was all very innocent. There was a riot. Lord Raleigh rescued me and took me to his rooms. He was bleeding. It's
his
blood on my gown.” She looked at Jack. “Tell them!”

He turned an inscrutable expression on her. “What difference will that make, do you suppose? You've said it all, and not one word can be taken back.”

“I don't want to take back anything I've said.” Her tone was still fierce. “All I want is to clear my name. I was with you when Lady Cardvale's diamonds were stolen. You rescued me from the riot. Nothing happened. I've done nothing to be ashamed of.”

Cardvale got up. “Of course you haven't, Ellie. No one believes you have. But you must see that you've been compromised. There is only one way to restore your good name. You and Lord Raleigh must marry at once.”

“Ah,” said Jack, “I was wondering when we would get to that.”

Now that her hopes for an advantageous alliance between her daughter and Lord Raleigh were crushed, Lady Sedgewick turned bitter. “Well, I think that's a shabby trick you played on Lord Raleigh, Ellie, to pretend to be one sort of woman, then turn out to be another. I suppose you saw your chance when you learned that Lord Cardvale was here. Of course he would see that right was done by you.”

“Naturally,” replied Cardvale. “Ellie is a blood relative.”

Ellie felt like the captain of a sailing ship who had escaped a whirlpool only to run smack into a hurricane. She hadn't foreseen this new peril because gentlemen of Jack's rank and fortune did not marry penniless nobodies just because they were compromised. And no one would have expected it of him if her cousin had not come upon the scene. It was her connection to Cardvale that made the difference.

She appealed to Lord Sedgewick, who had always been a good friend to her in the past. “Won't you stop this, please, before it gets out of hand?”

He shook his head. “It's not my place to interfere. Cardvale is the head of your house. You must be guided by him. However,” he got to his feet, “I think you and Lord Raleigh need a little time to get used to the idea. We'll leave you in private to talk things over, shall we?”

Cardvale looked doubtful. Lady Sedgewick protested that she wanted to remain. Dorothea demanded to know what steps they were going to take to get back her diamonds. In his imperturbable but relentless way, Lord Sedgewick ushered them out.

Ellie sat there, gathering her thoughts, while Jack went to the sideboard and poured himself a cup of coffee. She didn't know whether she should begin by thanking him for saying only enough to clear her name—for their time together wasn't entirely innocent—or whether she should apologize for the ludicrous demand her kinsman had placed on them both. Maybe they could have a good laugh about it? She heard the rattle of cup and saucer as he put them down, and she looked up at him.

“You're to be congratulated,” he said abruptly. “I swallowed your bait, hook and line, but don't imagine you're going to reel me in. Better women than you have tried—and failed. You see, Miss Hill, I'm an old hand at evading the marriage trap, no matter how cunningly it's baited.”

His words stunned her. This was the last thing she expected to hear. Even a man of his standing—no, his conceit—must see that she was the victim of circumstances as much as he.

Before she could answer, he went on, “Don't come the innocent with me, Aurora. I've tasted your kisses, remember? Yes, and a lot more besides. When I offer my hand in marriage, it will be to a lady whose reputation is spotless.”

She was furious. The only reason she had kissed him was to get to her pochette, as he must have guessed by now. She wanted to rage, rant, slap the cynical smile from his face. What stopped her was that small voice inside her head, reminding her that she was Papa's daughter. The thing to do now was make a dignified exit and show him how badly he had misjudged her.

The trouble was, she didn't have Papa's temperament, but Mama's. She would make that dignified exit, but only after she had taught this overbearing oaf a lesson.

Concealing her seething emotions behind a smile, she said archly, “Come now, Jack. That's no way to start our marriage. Let's be civil about this.”

Anger made his voice harsh. “How can I say this more plainly? I won't have you at any price.”

She looked down at her clasped hands. “You do realize that they'll turn me off without a character? Then how shall I live? Who will support me?”

He smiled grimly. “Stop playacting, Miss Hill. I liked you much better as Aurora.”

“Ah, but there is no Aurora. She's a figment of my imagination. Miss Hill has to make her own way in the world.”

“Then I suggest you elope with your present protector! I'm sure the life of a lady's companion is too tame for you now. And beggars can't be choosers.”

“My ‘present' protector?” Her brow wrinkled. She remembered, then, that Lord Denison had put forward the idea that she had a rich protector when he spoke to Jack in French. It took all her control not to start foaming at the mouth. “And who might that be?”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “You tell me. All I know is that your bag was stuffed with banknotes. Oh yes. I looked. How else would you come by such a sum of money if not from a rich protector?”

There was a pause as she tried to read his expression. She had the strangest notion that her answer mattered to him. Then the look in his eyes was gone, and the ironic smile became more pronounced.

“Do you deny it?” he asked.

“Why should I? But you see, Jack, money doesn't mean all that much to me. I have always dreamed of becoming a . . . countess.”

His eyes narrowed on her, weighing, measuring, as though he were not quite sure how to take her. Finally, he said, “How did you know I would be at the Café des Anglaises?”

“I didn't know. I was waiting for . . .” she flashed him another arch smile, “for my protector when you came to my rescue. The first thing that popped into my head was—here is an earl for the taking.
The Countess of Raleigh
. Can you imagine what that means to a poor girl like me? I'd be presented at court; I'd take precedence over viscountesses and lesser-titled ladies.” She went on rapturously, “I can see it now.”

He said dryly, “You have a vivid imagination, but alas, not much common sense. It will never come to that, though I must applaud you for trying. You certainly played your cards right.”