The Rake's Rebellious Lady (10 page)

Once outside in the cool air of early morning, she hurried through the small garden, out of the gate and into the mews where the horses and carriages were kept. She saw immediately the curricle drawn up just outside the arch, and walked quickly towards it.

‘Mornin’, milord,’ she said in her best mimicry of a stable
lad, which was amusing but would fool no one. ‘Was your lordship looking for assistance?’

Freddie looked at her, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes. She made a pretty youth, and he realised that if his friends saw her up beside him they would begin to wonder what he was up to, and his reputation might suffer a blow.

‘Good morning, imp,’ he said a trifle ruefully. ‘Take some dirt from the ground and smear your face a little. You look too clean and sweet for a stable lad.’

‘Oh, yes, I forgot,’ Caroline said and bent down to scoop up a little mud, smearing her face and neck, also her hands. ‘Is that better?’

‘A little,’ he agreed. ‘If we meet any of our acquaintances, keep your head down and do not speak, unless forced.’

‘No, milord,’ Caroline said.

‘Are you ready?’ Freddie said. She gave a slight nod of her head. ‘You are certain you wish to continue?’

‘Yes, quite certain.’ Caroline tossed her head, her eyes clear and bright as she gazed up at him. ‘I do not know why you are so concerned, sir. It is merely a lark, after all.’

Freddie frowned, for he suspected bravado. Indeed, until this moment he had thought that she would not show, and he was a little taken aback that she seemed so careless of her good name. Surely she must understand what the tabbies would make of it if it ever came out? But of course it was up to him to make sure that it did not!

‘Climb in, then,’ he said, making no attempt to help her. Unless she could manage it herself they were stumped. He saw that she made nothing of it, seeming as if she obeyed such orders every day of her life. ‘Well, then, we shall go—but if
you find the sight of blood sickening you must tell me and we shall leave.’

‘Blood…’ Caroline had hardly thought about the fight until this moment. For her it had all been about adventure, the excitement of doing something she knew was forbidden. ‘Yes, well, I suppose there will be some.’

‘You may depend upon it,’ Freddie said and shot a glance at her. His expression was severe. Caroline, aware that he was expecting her to show some emotion, schooled her features to show none, lifting her chin. ‘But we need not stay long if you do not wish it.’

Caroline made no answer. In fact, neither she nor Freddie spoke much for the next hour or so as they made their way to the scene of the fight, which was on Hounslow Heath. It had been scarcely light when they set out, but by the time they had reached their destination the sun had begun to fight its way through the clouds.

* * *

Some forty-odd carriages had drawn up at convenient intervals about the spot where the fight would be held. Bare-knuckle fighting wasn’t exactly illegal, but it was frowned upon by many and usually took place in secluded locations at an hour when there was least likely to be any interference.

Looking about her, Caroline saw that the carriages belonged mostly to young men, though there were one or two older gentlemen of the sporting persuasion. There were, of course, no ladies of quality present, though she saw a couple of females who could in no way be called ladies. They were dressed in gaudy, revealing gowns and looked as if they might have been out all night, their cheeks painted with rouge. They were
laughing loudly with the gentlemen who had brought them, and from their manner looked as if they might be intoxicated.

Caroline had not known what to expect, and she was a little shocked by such free manners, and by some of the language the gentlemen were using. It was the language of the stables, and though she had heard such cant before, somehow she was not prepared for it.

Besides the gentlemen’s carriages, there were wagons and men dressed in shabby clothes walking about, at their heels a pack of dogs, some of them hounds and lurchers, also a bull terrier or two with ferocious-looking mouths. The atmosphere was one of excitement and anticipation, and as her eyes travelled round the arena, she saw that men were placing bets and also buying tankards of ale from a stall that had set up some distance away from where they were stationed.

Freddie looked at her speculatively. ‘Well, lad, what do you think of it?’

‘It is strange,’ Caroline said. ‘Different…exciting, I think.’

‘Exciting?’ His smile mocked her. ‘A rough place for a lad like you. But it was what you wanted, though we can leave if you wish?’

It was on the tip of Caroline’s tongue to tell him that she had seen enough when a voice hailed him, and two gentlemen came over to speak to him. She was thankful that they seemed to have been drinking, and did not glance her way as they talked about the merits of the fight they had come to watch.

The two gentlemen, both of whom were known to Caroline, though only by sight and not by acquaintance, seemed in no hurry to move on. They were making wagers with each other, and drew Sir Frederick into it, asking him his opinion of the outcome.

‘I would lay my blunt on Mason,’ Freddie told them. ‘But I have not seen Gentleman George fight, so I may be mistaken.’

‘What will you wager on it?’ one of the gentlemen asked.

‘Oh, fifty guineas,’ Freddie said. ‘You may come to me at my club if you should win.’

‘Naturally,’ the gentleman replied, glancing briefly at Caroline. ‘What does the lad say? Who will win, lad?’

‘His name is…Sam,’ Freddie said, ‘and he has no opinion on the matter—do you, Sam?’

‘Come, come, let the lad speak for himself, Rathbone. Tell me, lad, what is your opinion?’

Caroline shook her head, keeping her eyes down, aware that she was being studied rather too intently. She averted her gaze. A short distance away she saw that two dogs were squaring up to each other, and in another moment they were at each other’s throats, growling fiercely, their fangs bared as they entered a bloody conflict.

It was a horrid sight, and one that Caroline disliked very much, but it diverted attention from her, for instead of trying to separate them, their owners urged them to it and started to make bets on the outcome. The two gentlemen who had come up to Freddie walked off to watch and hazard their blunt in the betting. Freddie glanced at her, raising his brows.

‘Do you wish to leave?’

‘No, certainly not,’ Caroline said, though she had found the dogfight unpleasant, but it was over now and the pugilists were being announced to the crowd. ‘I am not so easily distressed, though I do not like to see dogs hurt.’

‘Nor I,’ Freddie agreed. ‘Men have a choice whether to fight or not. Animals are not so fortunate. Personally, I abhor such sports. Well, I dare say we may as well watch the fight
since we are here.’ Caroline watched as the two men began to square up to each other, thinking that both looked very strong and well matched in size and weight. They began by circling each other, making occasional jabs at each other and ducking. Around them loud voices were raised, urging the men to close with each other and eventually the blows began to land with regularity.

At first Caroline was struck by the excitement and the science of the way the men ducked and weaved, and the skill it took to land a punch on their opponent. However, after some rounds, when they were both reeling from the effect of so many blows, she began to hope that it would soon be over. However, she said nothing, for she was not prepared to let Freddie think her a weakling after all. It was towards the end of the thirteenth round that he turned to look at her.

‘I believe I have seen enough. Mason will undoubtedly wear his opponent down,’ Freddie said. He began to back his horses and in a few moments they were leaving the Heath. He glanced at Caroline again, noticing her thoughtful expression. ‘You did not wish to stay for the end, did you?’ he asked after they had driven for a few minutes on the road.

‘No,’ she admitted, meeting his gaze then, a little flush in her cheeks. ‘At the start it was rather fine—two men of equal skill matched in a display of pugilism—but I must admit that it became a little too bloody towards the end—foolish of me to be so squeamish, I know. I am glad to have had the experience, but I do not think I should wish to attend another fist fight.’

‘I never expected you to come,’ Freddie said. He was unsmiling and Caroline thought that he disapproved of her behaviour. ‘You have more pluck than most, Miss Holbrook. I admire you for it, but I should never have allowed you to go
through with this mad escapade. Now we must think how to get you home with no one the wiser.’

‘I shall have to find somewhere to change my clothes.’

‘And wash that dirt off your face,’ Freddie said. ‘But there is a quiet inn I know of where we may take breakfast in a private parlour and you may retire to the landlord’s best chamber to make yourself tidy.’

‘You are very thoughtful for my sake,’ Caroline told him, a faint flush in her cheeks. ‘I have been a little reckless, have I not?’

‘My fault, I think,’ Freddie told her. ‘I should not have provoked you into it.’ He raised one eyebrow. ‘What of the balloon ascension—shall we call off your part in that?’

‘Oh, no, indeed not,’ Caroline said instantly. ‘I am not so pudding-hearted! You must not think it.’

‘I assure you that I do not,’ Freddie confided with a smile that lifted her spirits. His smile had set her heart racing rather fast and she knew in that instant that she liked him very much. ‘To be honest, I am not particularly enamoured of bare-knuckle fighting. Boxing in a ring with gloves is quite another thing. I doubt very much that I should have bothered to attend this morning if we had not made our little wager. I see no sport in two men hitting each other until one or both can no longer stand up. The sport must have rules and be conducted in a gentlemanly fashion if it is to be watched with any pleasure.’

Caroline made no answer, but she thought a great deal. His behaviour that day had been so considerate, so generous and kind, that she could not help liking him much more than she had thought possible. He seemed to think just as he ought on so many matters that she was inclined to believe him a very sensible and charming man. His mocking air and habit of seeming never to take anything seriously was possibly a mask
to hide his true nature, which was perhaps more sensitive than others might realise. However, she naturally kept her thoughts to herself, and, since he seemed to be thoughtful too, they continued in silence until they came to the inn he had spoken of.

He ordered breakfast for them both in the private parlour, and Caroline discovered that she was hungry, eating some cold ham followed by bread and honey, which she washed down with a mug of watered cider. After they had eaten, Caroline took the bundle of clothes Freddie had had from her maid and went up to the bedchamber he had mentioned. She washed her face, tidied her hair and dressed in a green carriage gown and a straw bonnet.

She glanced at herself in a rather grey-looking mirror on the wall, and then went downstairs to the hall, where she saw that Freddie was in conversation with the landlord. He shot a startled glance at her, but then smiled as Freddie pressed some gold coins into his hand.

‘I believe he thinks we are eloping,’ Caroline said as they went outside. This time Freddie handed her into his curricle, taking care to stop her gown from snagging on the wheel.

‘I dare say he may, but we do not need to care for his opinion,’ Freddie said as he flicked his reins to give the order to his horses to walk on. ‘It seems that we may have brushed through this without much trouble, Miss Holbrook.’

‘Oh, do call me Caroline,’ she said, as she threw him a speaking glance. ‘I do not think we can stand on ceremony now—do you?’

‘Perhaps not,’ Freddie said. ‘Very well, Caroline it shall be, at least when we are alone. And now I shall get you home before your family begin to wonder where you have been.’

Neither of them were aware of a curricle that had just that moment pulled up at the far end of the inn yard. The two young gentlemen, who had come in search of the prize fight, but decided that they would stop for breakfast, glanced at each other in surprise.

‘Was that Miss Holbrook with Freddie Rathbone?’ Asbury asked of his companion. ‘They are somewhat out of the way, are they not?’

‘It is a trifle unusual,’ Mr Bellows agreed. ‘You do not suppose that they have been to…no, no, of course not.’

‘To the mill?’ Asbury asked and shook his head. ‘No, I cannot think it. Not but what she is game enough—but Rathbone has more sense than to take a delicate lady there. Or has he?’

‘He has always been a trifle unsteady,’ Bellows said. ‘At least…he has done some reckless tricks in the past, so I’ve heard. But surely even he wouldn’t do such a thing? Take a lady to a prize fight? No!’ He looked shocked, disbelieving, as well he might, for it was unheard of.

‘No, I can’t think it,’ Asbury said. ‘But what in the world were they doing here—at an inn like this? I mean, a drive in the park is one thing, but…you don’t suppose that…?’

‘An assignation?’ Bellows said. ‘You’re off the mark there, Asbury, old fellow. I know she is free in her talk, but she ain’t fast. I admire her. I won’t believe there was anything havey-cavey about it.’

‘I am sure you are right,’ Asbury said, but frowned. He wouldn’t care to think anything unkind of Miss Holbrook, for he liked the spirited beauty very well, but it had put some doubt in his mind concerning her character. He had wondered if he should make her an offer, but now he thought that
perhaps he would not. A gentle, biddable girl might be more suitable as the mother of his children. ‘There must be some perfectly reasonable explanation for them having just come from that inn…though I am damned if I know what it might be.’

I
t was not to be hoped that she would escape her aunt’s eagle eye when she returned to the house—it was past noon and Lady Taunton had already been to her niece’s room to ask how she was feeling that morning. Having been met by a maid who stumbled over her words of explanation and looked guilty, her suspicions had been aroused, though Caroline’s appearance was just as it ought to be and, when questioned, she answered innocently enough.

‘Oh, I had quite forgot an appointment to go driving with Sir Frederick when I said that I might rest,’ Caroline said, feeling guilty as she lied. She knew herself to be in the wrong, for she had indeed been foolish. ‘Besides, my headache had completely gone this morning, Aunt.’

Louisa Taunton looked at her with dislike. ‘I think you enjoy flouting me, Caroline,’ she said, her mouth twisting. ‘I do not know what mischief you have been up to, but I should warn you that it will come to my ears eventually, miss. You can do nothing in society that remains a secret for long, and if you have acted unwisely it will rebound on you. I have told
you often enough that you are too free in your manners. You believe that you may do as you like, but go too far and you will discover that I was right.’

‘I must be such a trial to you, Aunt,’ Caroline said. ‘Why did you agree to bring me out this Season if you so heartily disapprove of me?’

‘For your mother’s sake. She has no more idea of control than a nodcock, and less sense than a peagoose. You have been much indulged as a child, Caroline. Had you been my daughter, I should have taken a cane to you long ago.’

‘Perhaps it was as well for me that you are not my mother,’ Caroline replied. She lifted her head, meeting her aunt’s angry gaze. ‘If you will excuse me, I shall go up and change my gown. Mama wishes to attend an exhibition of art this afternoon and I have promised to accompany her.’

Lady Taunton snorted her disgust and turned away as Caroline walked up the stairs. The stubborn girl would go her own way, it seemed. She was heading for a fall, but there was no telling her, and her aunt sustained some satisfaction in thinking of how much she would enjoy dealing with Caroline’s eventual disgrace.

Caroline entered her room, shutting the door and locking it behind her. She put her hands to her heated cheeks, for her aunt’s criticism had struck home more deeply than usual. She was aware that she had behaved badly that morning, though she seemed to have brushed through it with little more than a scolding. Her spirit was not crushed, nor her determination to take part in the balloon flight on that Thursday, but she admitted now that there were some things she ought not to dare, and she told herself that she would be more sensible in future. She did not care what her aunt thought of her, but she
would not like to bring shame and distress to her mother. And she could not help wondering if perhaps her reckless behaviour had lowered her in Sir Freddie’s estimation. That would indeed be a heavy price to pay.

She washed her face in cold water, and then changed into a pretty walking gown of patterned green muslin before going downstairs to partake of a simple nuncheon that had been prepared for them in the dining room. Her mother and aunt were already seated, Marianne looking up with a smile as she entered.

‘You are better this morning, my dear,’ she said. ‘I do hope you will not be like me, Caroline. I suffer with dreadful heads from time to time.’

‘Oh, I think it was just the heat last night,’ Caroline replied and dropped a kiss on top of her neatly dressed head. Her mother was wearing a fetching cap of Brussels lace and in truth looked much younger than her years. ‘I am perfectly well, dearest Mama—and looking forward to attending the gallery with you this afternoon.’

‘Yes, I am looking forward to it, too,’ her mother said, giving her a look of affection. ‘I was speaking to Mr Herbert Milbank about it last week. He told me that there were some fine watercolours to be seen, as well as oils, and you know that I paint a little, dearest—though of course nothing I produce could ever be thought good enough to be shown.’

‘But of course they are,’ Caroline told her. ‘It is just that you are too shy to allow it. I think you have a good eye for landscapes and some of the portraits you have done are so like the subject it is unreal.’

‘You flatter me, dearest,’ her mother said, but looked pleased. ‘Sit down and have something to eat, my love. This ham is very good and I think you missed your breakfast, did you not?’

‘Oh, Mary brought me a pastry,’ Caroline said with a little flush. She had eaten heartily at the inn with Sir Frederick, for the cold air had given her an appetite. ‘I am not very hungry just now.’

‘Eat something to please me,’ her mother urged. ‘This cold chicken is very good.’

Caroline helped herself to a small piece of the meat and some green peas, but pushed them around her plate, feeling unable to swallow even this small morsel. However, she drank a cup of tea, and then went upstairs to put on her pelisse and bonnet.

‘Is everything all right, miss?’ Mary asked as she helped her to find the gloves she needed to complete her ensemble. ‘Lady Taunton was that suspicious earlier, I was sure she guessed something was wrong.’

‘She knows nothing,’ Caroline said. ‘It is mere speculation.’

‘No, miss, but if it were to happen again…’

‘Do not worry, Mary, it shall not.’ She smiled at the girl, picked up her reticule and went along the hall to her mother’s bedchamber.

Mrs Holbrook was looking doubtfully at herself in the mirror. She had put on a green velvet bonnet trimmed with black ribbons and turned to her daughter as she entered. ‘Do you think this is wrong for me, dearest? Ought I to stick to black entirely?’

‘No, indeed, Mama, you should not,’ Caroline said at once. ‘You look very nice, very respectable—and it is two years since we lost Papa.’

‘Your poor father,’ Marianne said and sighed. She blinked hard and then turned back to the mirror. ‘Well, I think it is quite suitable, and Papa would not have wanted me to mourn for ever. Besides, he could not expect it in the circumstances.’

Caroline wondered what her mother meant, but forbore to ask. She felt a little tingle at the nape of her neck. It was unusual for her mother to say anything of the kind, and the green bonnet was new—something that made her wonder.

The carriage was waiting for them when they went downstairs. Jeremy the coachman helped first Mrs Holbrook and then her daughter inside. Caroline glanced sideways at her mother’s face—she had sensed that she was oddly nervous and wondered why that should be.

* * *

The art gallery was not overcrowded, though several ladies and gentlemen were walking about the large room, looking at the pictures, most of which were reasonably priced works of art. The artist was a newcomer to the scene, and giving his first show, but already his work had aroused considerable interest and Caroline had noticed that several of the pictures had been marked as being sold.

‘This is rather nice, isn’t it, Mama?’ Caroline stopped in front of a portrait in oils of a young girl playing with a hoop. ‘Isn’t she pretty?’

Her mother did not reply immediately, and, glancing at her, Caroline saw that her cheeks were quite pink. And then she saw that a gentleman was staring at them. She recognised him at once, though she had not spoken to him for some weeks.

In his middle years and of medium height, he was still an impressive man. He came towards them, raising his beaver hat to reveal a head of thick dark hair. He was stoutish though not fat, his impressive moustache flourishing under a patrician nose, his eyes grey and just now smiling at…her mother.

‘Ah, Mrs Holbrook,’ he said. ‘How very pleasant to see you
here. I had hoped that you might attend today.’ He inclined his head politely towards Caroline, but it was obvious that her mother was the object of his interest.

‘Mr Milbank. I remembered it most particularly,’ Marianne told him, blushing like a young girl. ‘For you told me you were the young man’s patron, did you not?’

‘Yes, indeed. I saw some of his work when I visited Lancashire a few months back. Not in an exhibition, you know, but hanging on the wall of a modest home. I’ve had the devil of a time persuading him to show his work, but I managed it at the last, and it seems to be a success. It was that portrait of a young girl that took my eye, you see—she is older now, for I met her, but just as beautiful, I assure you.’

‘The picture has no price tag,’ Mrs Holbrook remarked.

‘No, for he does not wish to sell it,’ he told her. ‘But there are many pretty pictures that are for sale—if you care to see them?’

Mrs Holbrook said that she did, taking his arm. Caroline remained looking at the picture for a while—there was something in the girl’s smile that intrigued her. She did not notice the gentleman approach until he spoke to her.

‘Charming,’ Freddie said, ‘and a little like you in some ways, Miss Holbrook.’

‘Oh…’ Caroline was startled, a blush coming to her cheeks as she glanced at him. ‘Do you think so? I was not expecting to see you here this afternoon, sir.’

‘Were you not?’ His eyes quizzed her. ‘Did you imagine that I had no interest in such things?’

‘Oh…well, I would not have expected you to attend the show of an unknown artist, though I am sure you have many valuable works of art.’

‘Perhaps…’ Freddie smiled oddly. ‘But it is amazing what one finds at these affairs. I think I shall buy this picture.’

‘Mr Milbank says that the artist does not wish to sell.’

‘Does he not?’ Freddie smiled. ‘Well, then, I may have to persuade him, for I am determined to have it.’

‘And do you always get your own way?’ Caroline met his gaze boldly, a hint of challenge in her eyes.

‘Usually,’ he said. ‘When I truly want something I am not often denied. Ah, here are George and Julia—shall we join them, for it was to meet them that I came this afternoon?’

Caroline suddenly felt a little disheartened at the thought that Sir Frederick had not come to the gallery with the sole intention of seeing her, but brushed the feeling aside. ‘Yes, I knew they might come,’ Caroline said, ‘but you must excuse me, sir. I believe my mother needs me…’

‘Then I shall not keep you, but do not forget that we are engaged to each other on Thursday, Miss Holbrook. I am looking forward to our excursion very much.’ Caroline met his challenging look, her cheeks a little warm, for she knew that she was being mocked.

‘As I am, sir,’ she said. ‘Please excuse me for the moment.’

She walked away, conscious that his eyes were on her, wondering why her heart was beating so very fast. Was she imagining it, or had his manner become just that little bit more reserved towards her?

* * *

Caroline looked at her mother with approval that evening. Marianne was dressed in a simple grey gown, but had a spangled shawl draped over her arms, and was wearing the pearls she had been given as a wedding present when she had married Mr Holbrook. Her hair had been dressed in a new,
becoming style that was swept softly off her face and finished in an attractive coronet on her head, which had been dressed with a scrap of exquisite lace.

‘Mama, you do look lovely,’ Caroline said. ‘I can see that I shall have a rival this evening.’

‘Do not talk such nonsense,’ Marianne said. ‘I thought that perhaps it was time I began to wear something other than black.’

‘More than time,’ her daughter agreed, but when they went downstairs together, Lady Taunton’s expression was one of disapproval. She gave her sister a speaking glance, but said nothing as she led the way out to the carriage. Her silence spoke more than words could have done, and mother and daughter were aware of her displeasure.

It was clear from her manner that she did not approve of her sister’s new touch, but Caroline thought that her mother looked happy for the first time in an age. However, once they were at the dance, her usual court soon surrounded her and it was a while before she noticed that her mother was talking animatedly to Mr Milbank. She smiled inwardly, believing that she understood the change in her mother’s manner of late, and feeling pleased by it. If her mother were to find happiness with that gentleman, she would be delighted.

* * *

It was not until quite late in the evening that Caroline realised Mr Asbury was present. He had not asked her to dance, which was unusual, and she noticed that he was paying a great deal of attention to Julia, who was looking very pretty in her pale pink gown. Caroline wondered whether she might have done something to offend him. However, when Julia brought him over to join her and Mr Bellingham just before supper, he seemed as polite as ever—but he still did not ask her to dance.

Caroline was not concerned enough to be troubled by his neglect for she already had more than her share of partners. However, she wondered why Sir Frederick was not in attendance, for he had said that he would see her later that evening.

‘Oh, Freddie was called suddenly to his uncle,’ George said when she asked. ‘However, he says that he shall return tomorrow evening so you need not worry over the excursion on Thursday.’

‘What excursion is that?’ Caroline turned in surprise as she heard her brother’s voice. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘Sir Frederick has arranged for us to watch a balloon ascension on Thursday,’ Julia said. ‘There is a party of us going, Mr Holbrook, and we shall have our nuncheon in the park at Richmond if the weather is fine.’ She smiled at him shyly. ‘Why do you not accompany us, sir? I am sure there is room for one more.’

‘Yes, I should think I might,’ he said, looking pleased to have been invited. ‘I was going to take a look in at Manton’s, you know; had an appointment to discuss what might suit me, but I can do that another day. It was just a little matter of purchasing a pair of pistols and there is not the least hurry.’

‘Are you sure you wish to come?’ Caroline asked her brother with a little frown. ‘Will you not find it rather tedious? I imagined you were busy with your friends.’

Since his arrival, some gentlemen who were generally considered to be rakish young bucks had taken Tom into their circle.