To Catch a Rake (3 page)

He died alone.

For as long as she drew breath, she would never forgive herself for not providing comforting words when her husband needed them the most. Since her father had become senile and rarely left his rooms, she had assumed the duties of meeting the needs of her family. This endeavor suited her to perfection and provided much needed relief from the remorse of not being with her husband after his accident.

Lily started to drag the cane chair next to her bed close to the fire. “Oh well, if we must move… But I am not in the least chilly.” She took her seat, blew her nose into her handkerchief, and then stared listlessly into the glowing red coals.

Meta grabbed the dark oak chair in front of the vanity table and placed it next to Lily’s chair by the fire. She reached for her sister’s hand again. “James told me of your broken understanding, but he did not elaborate. So please, tell me what happened. I am absolutely confident we can set the situation to rights and get him to reconsider.”

Lily shook her head. “No, he will never change his mind. He said his judicial career would be at risk if he resumes his engagement to me. He might remain a common lawyer for years and never ascend to serjeant-at-law. If society discovers my initials in the field guide, he says it will have serious repercussions. Serious enough for his mother to claim that if we wed, she will cut off his funds to save the family’s connections and reputation. Then what will he do?”

“Field guide? I don’t understand. How can marriage to a sweet girl like you risk his career in the court?”

Lily rose and fetched a small book from her vanity. Handing it to Meta, she sighed and took her seat. “James claims the entry on page one hundred and sixty-one is me. It isn’t, of course, but he will not change his mind. Our families have been acquainted for ages, and I was eighteen when this book was published. How could he even consider the possibility that the entry was me?” She blew her nose again.

“That is something I intend to find out.”

“It’s no use; he’s too frightened. Any hint of scandal, much less having your fiancée’s initials appear in
The Rake’s Handbook: Including Field Guide
, would be an end to his professional aspirations. He would become the lawyer with the scandalous wife and everyone knows that once society has spread tittle-tattle—even if false—it is impossible to change their opinions. Turn the pages and see for yourself. You must admit the initials are unusual and similar to mine.”

Meta examined the small tome. Covered in plain paperboards, the palm-sized book contained just over two hundred pages. Turning to the indicated page, she saw the entry:
“L
******
B
*******
: This blue-eyed beauty enjoys the sport and is known for joining in the festivities with a lot more than just her heart. She is famous for her plush lacteal hillocks of passion.”
Meta shook her head. “Oh my, oh my, how vulgar.” She snapped the book shut. “Enough! Except for the loose similarity to your initials, how can this entry be tied to you?”

Lily shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “I told James the book must be about—well you know—
those
females. But he disagreed and said the book is about proper ladies and their—well, you know—bedroom habits.” She sighed, then gave a dainty sniff. “He told me that down at his club the common name for the book is
The Field Guide
. I guess gentlemen are supposed to carry it so they can readily spot these women on the streets. He even told me that over a thousand of these horrid books were published and sold to men around Covent Garden.”

Meta considered James Codlington to be an honorable, intelligent young man. Although he was still young and gangly in appearance, she had complete confidence in his good character. He would follow his father and be a successful justice in the Court of Common Pleas one day, an honored position held at various times by several members of his family. “How did James come by it?”

Lily glanced up, wide-eyed. “You know, I forgot to ask him. That is somewhat suspicious, don’t you think? Maybe he is the sort of gentleman that purchases books like this one. Perhaps I should not wish to wed James after all. Maybe he is one of those men that keep secrets from their wives and cannot be trusted?”

“Nonsense.” Meta had known James and his family for years. He did not have a secretive personality—far from it. “Lily, a more honest gentleman never lived; you know that. Besides, the two of you acknowledged your love a year ago and recently announced your engagement to your family. You even assured me it was true love, remember?”

Lily’s almost violet eyes began to shimmer with unshed tears. “I-I certainly thought it was, I truly believed it was mutual, until yesterday. Oh, Meta.” She covered her face with both hands. “Why has he insulted me in this way?”

Meta examined the small book again. The text was divided into two sections, with the first section titled:
The Rake’s Handbook
. The second section, consisting of about fifty pages, bore the title:
The Field Guide
. Each page of the field guide described a lady’s best features and amorous personality. It also provided tips upon how to recognize her in person, for example, a penchant for a favorite type of bonnet or colored spencer. “How could someone be so heartless as to write a book like this?”

Lily did not reply, resuming her vacant stare in the direction of the hot coals.

Meta flipped through every page in the book, then returned to the page in question. “How can James say it’s your name on this page when the spelling is off? There are too many spaces for the word Lily and too few spaces to spell Broadsham properly. Therefore, this female cannot possibly be you. Did you point that fact out to him?”

“Yes, but it made no mark upon him whatsoever. He thought the extra letters in the first name were only because it meant Lillian. You know, while we all call you Meta, your full name is Margaret and would have eight spaces. James said the lack of a letter in the last name was merely a printing error.”

“I wonder if his mother had anything to do with that excuse, since it does not sound like James at all.”

Lily ignored her. “Most of all, he seemed consumed by the fact that my initials appeared under the category of Happy Goer—a subject he could not leave alone, although I had no idea what he was going on about.” She looked up at her sister. “Oh, Meta, why didn’t he believe me? Why didn’t he know in his heart it was not me in that book?”

Meta glared at the small tome. “That is something I plan to discover. Indeed, I have numerous questions for James. But first, I don’t see the words ‘Happy Goer’ under the entry that he presumably thinks is you.”

Lily blew her nose somewhat indelicately. “It’s a term in the index, at the front of the field guide.”

Meta flipped the pages and found the index, which consisted of six different categories of lady. She read the title of each category aloud: “Widow Makers Tied Up, Goddesses Who Rule the Roost, Happy Goers, Eager Out of the Gate, Wilting Flowers, and Rabbits. Oh my, I’ve truly never seen anything so vulgar.”

“So vulgar,” Lily repeated. “I don’t really understand it. How could a lady be considered a rabbit? Cute and fluffy? Her breeding abilities?”

Unlike Lily, Meta had been married for almost two years, so she had heard enough of private masculine conversations to understand the section titles likely referred to the lady’s amorous behavior in bed. “No, dearest, by using the word ‘rabbit,’ I doubt the author meant the lady’s number of children, or cute and fluffy, or even jumping.”

Lily widened her eyes. “Jumping? Oh, what does that mean?”

Actually, Meta did not know the precise definition of each term, but she believed Lily would probably be listed under “Rabbits,” speculating that the author meant “scared as a rabbit” as a metaphor for the ladies’ lack of courage. “What sort of coarse and indecent man wrote this odious book?” She examined the title page and found the names Ross Thornbury and George Drexel. Mr. Thornbury’s name was attached to the handbook section, and Mr. Drexel’s name was listed on the title page of the field guide.

“Do you know the identity of any of these gentlemen?” Lily asked. “I suppose I cannot call them that, can I?”

“This Mr. Drexel is certainly not a gentleman. He’s some vile creature that haunts the streets of Covent Garden, a heartless and jaded rake, no doubt. He might be dangerous, so I will try and talk to James first. Perhaps after a day of private contemplation, he now realizes the injustice of his accusation.” She patted Lily’s knee. “I don’t want to elevate your hopes prematurely, but we might resolve this situation with only a little fuss. James might even be eager to make amends. I’ll go have a word with him.”

For the first time that morning Lily smiled—not a happy smile, more of a resigned one. “Thank you. But on this matter I do not need your help. James and I have already had a long conversation about this field guide. I pointed out the differences in initials, and he summarily dismissed me. Truly, all is lost. Please do not argue the point with James on my behalf. I have come to accept the fact that I will never marry, and you must too.” She reached over to grab her sister’s hand.

Meta had no intention of causing Lily additional distress by talking to James against her wishes. But she would do anything to ensure that Lily married the man she loved. “Then we must find this Mr. Drexel person. He wrote this filth, so we’ll ask him to convince James that it’s not your name in his cursed field guide. I’m sure when the scoundrel realizes he has hurt an honorable woman, he will do whatever it takes to right the wrong he created. I don’t know how this can be accomplished, but he has no other choice, does he?” She turned to the front page and discovered the address of the publishing house. “The three of us will pay a call on his publisher and inquire about the whereabouts of this Mr. Drexel. Then we’ll pay a morning call—if the man has a decent home to receive callers—and ask him to enlighten James about the real name of the woman mentioned on that page.”

“But, Meta, you’ve seen his field guide. This Mr. Drexel is obviously a scoundrel of the worst sort. He is probably the sort of man who abuses his servants. The sort of man who spits in public. It’s far too dangerous to ask Fitzy to join us, because Mr. Drexel may even be the sort of man who
eats children
.”

Two

“He eats children! I told you so, Meta. You thought my comment was in jest,” Lily said, following Meta into the front parlor of the Drexel house. Before them they found a tall, dark man with a wooden figurine of a small boy in his mouth.

While the torso protruding from the man’s mouth might be considered an alarming sight, his hands held several larger human figurines, so his mouth was probably the only place left to hold the wooden boy. In front of him, the large oak desk almost disappeared under piles of paper and small models of buildings. Directly under his scrutiny sat a model of a round structure, like a theater, with stairs descending on the inside.

Meta expected that a gentleman interrupted by two women and a young man unknown to him would have immediately given them his attention.

He did not.

He blithely ignored all of them as he carefully balanced a small piece of wood along the final step at the bottom of the model’s stairs. Once the wood remained in place, he gingerly set a wooden figure of a soldier on the step. The soldier toddled on the slim piece of wood, causing the man to drop the other figurines on the pile of papers in order to steady the crimson-coated figurine with both hands. “Damnation,” he said from the side of his mouth.

“Let me assist you,” Meta said, stepping forward to gather the figurines and pulling the boy from his mouth. She watched the man’s large hands deftly handle the wooden model and marveled at the combination of strength and dexterity in his active fingers. The gentleman before her must be an engineer, architect, or builder, not a scandalous man who could pen a field guide. So, before she could request him to change James’s mind, she had to devise a way to confirm his authorship, without insulting a busy, innocent man.

He continued to have difficulties balancing the soldier on the piece of wood. “His legs are too wide. Set the boy in the exact position instead.”

She held the boy inches over the bottom of the stairs. “Do you want him placed here?”

“Yes, against the inner wall.”

Once she finished her task, she gathered up the remaining figurines. “I’ll just hold these for you. Let me know when you need one.” She then examined the model to discover the other positions where a wooden figure might be placed.

“Who in the blazes are you?”

She looked up and found herself under his intense stare.

He narrowed his dark eyes and then looked past her to Lily standing in the doorway. “Mrs. Morris!”

Meta flinched at the shout just inches away from her ears. “Ah, allow me to give the proper introductions. My name is Mrs. Margaret Russell, the other lady is—”

“I don’t care if she is the Queen come back to life.” He caught sight of Fitzy, who had stepped out from behind Lily and stood there mesmerized by the books, models, and drawings draped over every horizontal surface. “And you brought your son—that’s a first.” He whipped the figurines out of Meta’s hand. “I’ll take those. Now is not the time for this. Damnation, where can she be? Mrs. Morris,” he yelled again.

“Is that your housekeeper?” Meta asked. “She showed us in and pointed to the drawing room, then hurried to the kitchen. Perhaps something downstairs required her attention. Now please let me finish the introductions. My name you already know, the other lady is my sister, Lily Broadsham, and the young man is my brother, Fitzhenry Broadsham.”

He gave each of them the briefest of bows. Then he put down a figurine and strode to the mantel. “Please write your initials on these cards—your privacy will be assured—and the appropriate heading you desire in the next edition of the field guide.” He handed the two cards and pencils to Meta, since Lily stood by the door.

Meta stared at the cards. “I don’t understand.”