The Rake's Mistress (15 page)

The door opened again and a girl of Rebecca’s age entered the room. She had wide brown eyes and a friendly expression. She came forward, smiling. ‘Miss Raleigh? I thought that I would come and keep you company. My name is Rachel Newlyn.’

Rebecca came away from the window with a sigh and sat down on the sofa. ‘Did Lord Lucas not trust me sufficiently to leave me on my own, Lady Newlyn?’

Rachel’s eyes widened at Rebecca’s tone, but she answered levelly enough, ‘I have no notion. It was my own idea to join you, but if you prefer to be alone I can leave.’

Rebecca immediately felt churlish. ‘I am sorry to be so rude,’ she said. ‘I do not know what is wrong with me today.’

‘I do.’ Rachel came and sat beside her and, to Rebecca’s surprise, smiled warmly. ‘You have been deceived by someone you trusted and snatched from your home and delivered to a bunch
of strangers. It is quite enough to spoil one’s whole day!’

Rebecca was forced into a reluctant laugh. ‘When you express it like that…’

Rachel made a slight gesture. ‘That is how it is. So if there is anything I can do to make amends, Miss Raleigh, then you must tell me.’

‘I do not believe that you are the one who should be doing that, Lady Newlyn,’ Rebecca said bleakly.

Rachel sighed. ‘You mean Lucas, I suppose. I assure you, Miss Raleigh, that he feels his betrayal very keenly.’ She hesitated. ‘I have never seen Lucas quite so irritable before. Usually he is the most even-tempered of men. I think his conscience is giving him trouble. He told my husband Cory a full week ago that he knew he was behaving like a scoundrel.’

Rebecca felt slightly surprised. ‘Did he truly? I thought he believed me a traitor!’

Rachel laughed. ‘I cannot believe that such a thought would endure more than a minute in your company, Miss Raleigh. It is manifestly absurd. I am persuaded that Lucas knew you could not be directly involved.’

Rebecca could feel a dangerous inclination to ask more questions about Lucas but forced herself not to do so. ‘He has acted very badly,’ she said coldly.

Rachel sighed again. ‘And yet he is the one arguing for the others to trust you,’ she said, ‘which proves that he has faith in you.’

Rebecca looked at her sharply. ‘Lord Lucas is
defending
me?’

‘Certainly,’ Rachel said. ‘His brother the Duke is taking a little convincing that we should trust you enough to take you with us to Midwinter, given the damage done to his best carriage!’

Rebecca grimaced. ‘That was foolish,’ she admitted.

‘But understandable, given the provocation,’ Rachel said.

Once again, Rebecca resisted the urge to confide. It was easy to warm to Rachel Newlyn and her uncomplicated friendship, but it was too soon.

‘I cannot be surprised at the Duke’s reluctance,’ she said. ‘There is no reason for him to believe that neither I nor, I am convinced, my uncle knew that the work he was doing was treasonable.’

‘No reason other than Lucas’s belief in you,’ Rachel said smiling. She touched Rebecca’s hand lightly. ‘I heard that your uncle and aunt died recently, Miss Raleigh. I am sorry.’

Rebecca looked at her and realised that she meant it. There was genuine sympathy in Rachel’s eyes. Rebecca rubbed her forehead dispiritedly.

‘I have tried to keep the workshop going. I am persuaded that it is what my uncle would have
wanted. But it is very difficult and I am very tired.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘Excuse me. I do not normally complain like this.’

‘Of course not,’ Rachel said. ‘You sound most dauntless, Miss Raleigh.’ She squeezed Rebecca’s hand. ‘Do you know, I have travelled all around the world and gone to places and done things that others would never dream, and yet I have never been alone? I think that is the more difficult part.’

Rebecca looked at her. ‘All around the world?’

‘My parents are antiquarians—’ Rachel sighed ‘—and I travelled with them before I married.’

‘How wonderful,’ Rebecca said. ‘And now you are married to Lord Newlyn, who is a most notable explorer.’

Rachel laughed. ‘Fortunately, Cory has shown no inclination to travel farther than Cornwall of late,’ she said. ‘Which suits me. Do not worry about going to Midwinter, Miss Raleigh. We shall take care of you.’

‘You are going as well?’ Rebecca asked.

Rachel nodded. ‘My parents live in Midwinter Royal. I have not seen them for several months. This is a good opportunity for a visit.’ She smiled. ‘My good friend Lady Marney also lives nearby. Her sister is married to Lord Lucas’s brother Richard, but they are on their honeymoon at present. Nevertheless you will find a warm welcome
in Midwinter, Miss Raleigh. We shall strive to make you feel at home.’

Rebecca bit her lip. This kindly welcome was so far removed from the cold isolation that gripped her heart. It threatened to undermine her already, when she had promised herself that she would go to Midwinter and return as quickly as possible and let nothing, least of all Lucas’s presence, touch her.

‘I wish,’ she burst out with sudden fierceness, ‘that matters had not fallen out this way! I would have helped—of course I would—but now I feel deceived and coerced against my will. When Lord Lucas came to the studio today—’ She broke off. It was impossible to tell Rachel what had happened the previous night and how the pain of Lucas’s duplicity had been magnified by what had happened between them.

Rachel touched her hand. ‘I do not suppose that Lucas dealt with the situation very well,’ she said dolefully. ‘Men seldom do. He would not have thought to apologise first and try to explain properly.’

Rebecca laughed. ‘No, indeed he did not.’

Rachel shook her head sadly. ‘I suppose that was because he could not think about more than one thing at once.’

‘I have observed that before in men,’ Rebecca agreed. ‘It is very vexing.’

‘Lucas told us that it is his most ardent wish to marry you,’ Rachel said, ‘but that you were not inclined to accept his suit. One cannot wonder at it.’ She saw the look on Rebecca’s face and added quickly: ‘Have no fear—he told us none of the particulars, but he wanted us to understand how matters stood.’ She touched Rebecca’s hand. ‘I am sorry that everything has fallen out so badly, Miss Raleigh. Is there any chance that you might forgive Lucas in time?’

Rebecca was silent for a moment. ‘I do not believe so, Lady Newlyn,’ she said reluctantly.

Rachel sighed. ‘I see. Well, you may count me your friend if ever you need one, Miss Raleigh. And you must call me Rachel since we
are
to be friends.’ She smiled. ‘If I may call you Rebecca?’

‘Of course,’ Rebecca said, and she felt a little warmer. It would be very easy to accept Rachel’s friendship and to sink into this half-remembered opulence of aristocratic living. Once, long ago, she had taken such things for granted. If she were not careful she would start to feel that she belonged, but then what happened when it was all over? The empty studio in Clerkenwell would feel all the more lonely…

The door opened and a fair-haired man stuck his head into the room in a somewhat informal manner. ‘Rachel? Miss Raleigh—’ he gave Rebecca a warm smile ‘—how do you do? I am Cory
Newlyn. We are ready now, if you would be so good as to come through to the salon.’

Rebecca looked at Rachel, who stood up and held out a hand. ‘Come along. As I said, we shall look after you.’

Rebecca stood up and smoothed her skirts in a nervous gesture. Her heart was suddenly racing so much that it was difficult to breathe; it was not the prospect of meeting the Duke of Kestrel that disturbed her, but more the thought of facing Lucas again. For how was she to resist him when she clutched at every small suggestion that he was an honourable man? Yet in her heart of hearts she knew that honourable or not, she could not marry Lucas without an offer of love, and that was the one thing he had not given her.

Lucas was standing by the window when they entered the room. He turned to look at her, an indecipherable look, then came forward to draw her into the room. ‘Miss Raleigh, may I introduce my brother Justin, Duke of Kestrel. Justin, Miss Rebecca Raleigh. I see that you have already met Lord and Lady Newlyn.’

Justin Kestrel had got to his feet as Rebecca entered the room and now she found herself subjected to a searching scrutiny from his very dark eyes. He was a formidable man, in every way. An inch or two taller than Lucas, he was also broader
and a good few years older. His face was thin and bronzed, almost hawklike in its predatory good looks, and the expression in his eyes was very shrewd. Rebecca felt a
frisson
of apprehension.

‘Good morning, Miss Raleigh,’ the Duke said. ‘I understand from my brother that you are responsible for a bullet hole in the upholstery of my best carriage.’

Rebecca raised her chin and held his gaze. ‘That is correct, your Grace. I was aiming at your brother, but unfortunately I missed.’

She heard Cory Newlyn stifle a laugh and saw Justin Kestrel’s lips twitch. ‘Despite that,’ he murmured, ‘Lucas assures me that you have agreed to help us.’

Rebecca glanced at Lucas. His face was quite impassive. ‘I have, your Grace.’

Justin nodded. ‘Thank you, Miss Raleigh.’ He gestured Rebecca to a seat. ‘We have been most remiss. May I offer you some refreshment?’

Lucas passed her a cup of tea and the plate of biscuits. Rebecca, for whom breakfast seemed a long time ago, was surprised to discover she was ravenous.

‘Lucas will have told you the reason we are all here, Miss Raleigh,’ Justin Kestrel said, smiling as he watched her demolish five biscuits in succession. ‘I will leave it up to him to brief you further on the situation in Midwinter. We thought that for
the purposes of the visit to Suffolk, you should pose as Lucas’s fiancée.’

Rebecca put the plate down with a clatter. She knew that this had to be Lucas’s idea and she needed to spike his guns immediately.

‘No!’ She flushed, and glanced at Lucas, who was looking studiously blank. ‘I beg your pardon, your Grace,’ she amended, ‘but I cannot agree to acting the part of Lord Lucas’s betrothed. I should never be able to convince anyone.’

Justin Kestrel raised his brows. ‘It would not be for very long, Miss Raleigh.’

‘No,’ Rebecca said again. She felt panic rising in her throat at the thought of acting out the role of Lucas’s fiancée. That would bring him far too close. It was too intimate. She had to keep him at arm’s length now, at all costs, or she would never be able to resist him.

Lucas came across to her chair. ‘We could make it a marriage of convenience,’ he said. His tone was bland, but there was amusement lurking at the back of his eyes. ‘Then you would not be required to show me the slightest degree of affection.’

Rebecca blushed again and looked away. ‘I cannot,’ she said. ‘It would be too difficult. Why do we need to pretend anything of the sort?’

‘We need a reason, Miss Raleigh,’ Lucas said persuasively. ‘I am sworn to protect you and therefore
we need a reason to explain why I shall stay as close to you as a lover.’

The air in the salon seemed suddenly highly charged. Rebecca was trapped by the look in his eyes, which conjured up the heated images of the previous night.

‘No,’ she said for a third time, but this time it came out as a whisper.

‘I think,’ Rachel Newlyn said, breaking the fraught silence with a tactful clearing of the throat and throwing a look at her husband for support, ‘that we might consider some other solution, Justin. How would it be if Miss Raleigh was to be a cousin of yours—a distant one?’

‘Good idea,’ Cory Newlyn said at once. ‘You have so many cousins, Justin, that no one would remark on it.’

Justin nodded slowly. ‘It might serve. What do you say, Miss Raleigh? You are a distant cousin whom Lucas has met again for the first time in years and he is quite
épris
.’ A smile lurked at the corner of his mouth. ‘You, alas, are not in the least smitten by him.’

Rebecca felt swamped with relief. Once again, she caught Lucas’s quizzical look and glanced hastily away. He made her feel as though her defences were as fragile as glass.

‘I am content to agree to that,’ she said cautiously, ‘as long as I do not have to pretend to any degree of fondness for Lord Lucas.’

‘Capital!’ Justin Kestrel said, smiling broadly. ‘I shall leave the two of you to work out the details of our family connection and tell the rest of us how it stands. Keep it as simple as possible. You will wish to spend some time with Miss Raleigh after luncheon, Lucas?’

‘I shall,’ Lucas said, with disconcerting promptness.

‘Then we shall travel to Midwinter tomorrow morning,’ Justin Kestrel concluded. ‘I shall send a message ahead to Kestrel Court. Is there anything else?’

Rachel Newlyn raised a point of her own. ‘We are going to need some time to arrange suitable attire for Miss Raleigh,’ she said.

Everyone looked at her, including Rebecca. She had not given any thought to clothes. She seldom did.

‘I can go back to Clerkenwell to fetch my belongings,’ she began, but Lucas shook his head.

‘In the first instance, it is too dangerous for you to return there until this matter is settled,’ he said, ‘and in the second, I doubt you have anything suitable for this masquerade.’

Rebecca glared at him. She knew that she was being trivial, but it was good to have an excuse to
argue. ‘I assure you, Lord Lucas, that I have some very attractive gowns. It is simply that I do not wear them.’

‘Lucas is in the right of it, Miss Raleigh,’ Justin interposed smoothly, ‘although he could have expressed himself much more diplomatically. No one will believe that you are our cousin unless you are suitably attired.’

Rebecca looked around the rose salon at the simple but expensive furnishings and the understated elegance of her hosts. She deflated slightly. ‘Oh, very well! But I require the minimum of items. I cannot believe my stay will be a long one and there is no point in wasting the money.’

She saw the brothers exchange a look and wondered just what Lucas had told his brother about her. ‘Just so, Miss Raleigh,’ Justin Kestrel said. ‘We shall be most frugal.’

Even so, it soon transpired that the Duke’s idea of frugality and Rebecca’s own did not accord particularly well.