To Rescue a Rogue (11 page)

She saw wariness tighten his muscles. “A brother can appreciate the charms of a sister.”

“I don't think I'd describe Simon in quite those terms.”

“I should hope not.”

Mara sucked in a breath. “You know what I mean. Dare, I think I love you.”

His face turned blank. “You feel sorry for me, Imp, which is quite a different thing.”

Imp
. She recognized that name as an enemy now, a way of pinning her as child or sister.

“No, I don't. Or, at least, I do feel sorry for you. For being wounded. For…for having to fight free of opium. It's all unfair, but that's not it. It's the most peculiar feeling, like a fever, but I can't think what else it could be.”

“The influenza?”

He was building a wall between them. She should have kept her stupid mouth shut. Tears threatened, but she knew tears would crown the disaster.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I've embarrassed you. Now you'll probably never want to see me again.”

“Of course not. I mean, of course, I will. Damn it, Mara—”

“Don't.” She saw the way out and rushed for it. “You're probably right and it's a passing phase. I have a sad habit of falling into and out of mad passions,” she lied. “I remember the time I haunted Louth because I'd tumbled into infatuation with a physician there. And I practically swooned at Sir Richard Jasper's feet.”

She burbled along in this way, exaggerating youthful infatuations, making up more, and then carrying on desperately to relate all the embarrassing behavior of friends and neighbors. Somehow she talked her way back from the brink of disaster. From idiocy in love she moved on to idiocy in fashion and they entered Grosvenor Square engaged in a discussion of furnishings and Chinese ornaments.

When the carriage stopped, Ella's house looked like a haven. Even waiting for the footman to open the carriage door was a trial. Dare had climbed out and stood ready to escort her to the door and she wished he hadn't. She needed to escape and weep for her folly. At the open door, she managed a smile as she thanked him for the outing.

He took her hand, his expression somber. After along moment, he said, “Don't, Mara.”

If he intended more, he was interrupted.

“Mara, you're home at last. Don't rush off, Dare!”

Mara turned and there was her devil's hair brother, Simon, striding toward them, smiling.

B
ecause Dare still held Mara's hand, she felt it tighten before he released it. Yet when she looked at him, he was smiling, and when he spoke, she heard no tension. “Simon the tardy, arrived at last.”

She realized for the first time just how skillful an actor Dare was. He must long to escape as much as she did, but they were trapped. He had no choice but to enter the house with her, and when the front door clicked shut, it felt like a cell door.

She gathered her resources and went to kiss her brother's cheek and chatter. “We've been to the Tower.
Very
dreadful and fascinating. When did you arrive? Is Jancy here? Ah, I see she is.”

She went to hug her newest sister-in-law and friend, who was coming downstairs, bright with welcome.

Simon's wife was Jane for public usage, but preferred the name Jancy in the family and it suited her lively, generous nature. Simon adored her, and so did the whole family. Not surprising, as she was as lovely inside as out.

Jancy's Scottish father had given her red-gold hair and a delicate complexion dusted with freckles. Her mother had been of simple stock, however, so there was nothing delicate about the rest of her. She was a perfect, sensible St. Bride.

She'd
never babble to a man that she loved him. Mara wanted to pound her head against the nearest wall over that.

“What's the matter?” Jancy asked.

Mara put on a smile. “Nothing but a need for tea.”

“Come upstairs, then. Ella's pouring. We've only just arrived here.”

They turned to go up and Mara said, “The baby's beginning to show. You're well?”

Jancy blushed, but said, “Completely.”

“Your baby and Ella's will be about the same age. That's perfect.”

Perfect.
At the top of the stairs, Mara glanced back to check on Dare. He was close behind them, listening to Simon, seeming at ease. He and Simon were old and deep friends. She prayed she hadn't threatened that.

Then what her brother was saying caught her attention.

“Gas?” she asked. “At Marlowe House?”

“Yes. Come into the drawing room and I'll tell all.”

Ruth hurried up and Mara took off her gloves, hat, and spencer so the maid could take them away. Then she went into the drawing room and sat beside Jancy on a sofa.

“An
explosion
?” she asked.

“No,” Simon said. “How you do rush to dramatic assumptions. Austrey had gas piped into the library for lighting, though what possessed him, I can't imagine. He wasn't even bookish.”

“It's fashionable,” Ella said, passing cakes. “I don't care for it myself. Apart from the danger, it's too bright. Give me lamps and candles any day.”

“But bright must be excellent for reading,” Mara said.

“It
hisses,
” Ella said, “and always smells a little. It can't be healthy.”

“This smell is more than a little,” Simon said. “The housekeeper ordered the windows opened, but she didn't seem to realize the dangers.”

“You must not live there until the whole system is removed,” Ella said.

“Certainly not until it's been made safe. We took one sniff and ordered the house evacuated. The servants are taken care of and now I need to find a hotel.”

“I wish I could invite you here,” Ella said, “but we have no spare room.”

“No matter—”

“Come to Yeovil House.”

To Mara, Dare's words seemed strange, as if spoken reluctantly from another sphere. He looked quite normal, however, and before Simon could speak, he added, “You know there's no shortage of space, and with my parents away, I'm rattling around on my own. Do please come.”

Simon hesitated, but then said, “Thank you. It won't be for long. Either the house will be in a fit state soon or we'll rent another.”

Mara struggled with temptation and lost. She'd been expecting to move to Marlowe House with Simon and Jancy, and couldn't bear to be stuck here any longer, especially with such an exciting alternative—to live under the same roof as Dare.

She angled closer to Jancy. “Ask to have my company,” she murmured.

Jancy flashed her a look, but she was quick-witted. “Simon, can Mara join us? I was depending on her advice about London.”

“She doesn't know London any better than you,” Simon said.

“But she has a book.”

Dare was looking at Mara in an all-too-perceptive way. Lord, how could she have forgotten their recent, disastrous conversation? It must look as if she was pursuing him.

“A book?” Simon asked.

“
A Young Lady's Guide to the Educational Delights of London
,” Mara said. “A gift from my ecclesiastical godparents. Very informative, but I'm sure Jancy meant more general social knowledge. I might not have London polish, but I've lived in society all my life. I'd be willing to assist in any way I can.”

“More than willing, you'd be delighted,” Ella corrected.

Mara flashed her a look, alarmed that Ella had guessed her feelings for Dare.

“We're a little dull here,” Ella continued with a smile. “I like dull, especially at the moment, but of course Mara would prefer more lively days.”

“My soul shudders with dread,” Simon said, but he turned to Dare. “Are you willing to take an extra guest if she promises to behave herself?”

“I will be
perfectly
behaved,” Mara protested. She sent Dare a bright smile, hoping he'd understand that it was a promise not to embarrass him or herself ever again.

His eyes held hers for a moment, but then he said, “I don't believe even Mara can overstretch Debenham hospitality.”

Even
Mara?

Sick inside, she plunged into chatter. “Will this mean I'll meet more Rogues? I met Lord Middlethorpe and Sir Stephen Ball last night,” she told Jancy. “And their wives. Oh, that reminds me. We're to go on an expedition in search of a silk warehouse. The wives, I mean. I mean,
I'm
not a wife.” She pulled a face at her laughing family, hoping none of them guessed why she was babbling, and why her face was burning. “You're a Rogue's wife, Jancy. If there's room in the carriage, would you like to come?”

Jancy's eyes flickered. “If that's all right, Simon?”

“Of course. I have to deal with the gas. Buy lots of silk, my love.”

He said it with a smile, but Mara felt a trace of strain in the air. That was the one blemish in this blissful marriage—money. Jancy had grown up poor and valued a penny where the St. Brides valued a pound. Simon longed to pour out his wealth for her pleasure, but Jancy fretted over every extravagance.

That was an area where Mara could earn her keep. She wasn't careless with the pounds, but she had no difficulty with spending on reasonable things. In their circle the best quality was often reasonable. In fact, it could be essential.

Jancy was a new viscountess and would one day be a countess. She was also an outsider, a person known to be of lowly birth and with no ton connections. Many would be looking to find fault. Everything would go more smoothly if she, her home, and her entertainments were up to snuff.

Dare rose. Mara noticed he'd not touched his tea or cake. “Please excuse me. I, too, have matters to deal with, but I'll make sure all is in readiness. How many servants will you be bringing, Simon?”

As he and Simon discussed the details, Mara turned to Jancy. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “As Ella said, it is a little quiet here and I'm a sad bother to her.”

“It's a wonderful idea. I'd be terrified of London in my own home, never mind living in a duke's house. Simon laughs at me, but it's not easy.”

“Don't worry. You'll soon find your feet, especially with me to help.”

Mara hurried upstairs to supervise the packing of her trunks, resolving to keep her silent promise to Dare. She wouldn't pester him. She would act the perfect young lady and wait for him to court her.

But please let it be soon!

 

Dare traveled back to Yeovil House in a coach that now seemed full of memories of Mara. Perhaps even her light perfume lingered.

They'd been face-to-face in here for so long and at times it had felt overwhelming, yet he'd had no desire to escape. Her bright eyes, her attention, her very presence had been light for his dark spirit.

She'd said she loved him.

He should be fleeing back to Somerset. For her sake. Instead, he'd invited her into his home. What insanity had possessed him? True, he'd invited Simon and Jancy, but all the same. To invite anyone…

He'd seen no choice. How could he not offer hospitality to his closest friend when he had eight empty bedrooms?

He closed his eyes and rested his head back, aware as always that a little opium would wipe all these cares away. He'd taken his noon dose at the Yeoman Inn, congratulating himself that he'd carried it all morning without succumbing to temptation.

He'd never tried that before. He'd truly felt no temptation until the oppressiveness of the Tower had weighed on him—prison cells, cages, poor trapped animals with hate in their eyes….

Mara hadn't seemed to notice his distress, thank heavens, but it had been a blessing that she'd tired. If she'd wanted to explore every nook and cranny he didn't know what he'd have done.

She'd said she loved him
.

Despite her scrabbling attempts to escape, she'd meant it. At that moment, she'd meant it and hunger had roared in him, hunger worse than that for opium. To claim her, to possess her, to feed off her light and beauty.

To consume her.

That was what he feared above all. That the darkness inside him would swallow all the light—in his family, in his friends, but especially in Mara St. Bride.

The damnable, magical St. Brides.

As a tribe they were too tenderhearted for the real world. The hungry must be fed, the sick cared for, the injured healed, the oppressed defended. Those cursed with Black Ademar's hair were the worst. They would plunge into an inferno in their cause.

That had almost killed Simon. Nothing must be allowed to harm Mara, most especially himself.

She'd said she loved him
.

When he broke free of the beast.

If he broke free of the beast…

What if he stopped now? If his recent dose was his last? In a few weeks he could have victory.

If he could endure it this time.

Surely he could with such a prize at the end.

But as he reached the house, he realized he had put that option out of reach for now. Simon, Jancy, and Mara would arrive within hours, so he couldn't flee London to endure hell.

He descended from the coach and went into the house, where he summoned Mrs. Hunstable and gave her instructions.

“Two bedrooms. Viscount Austrey and his wife should have a parlor as well, I think. Which ones face the street?”

“The blue and the brown, sir. And the brown has a parlor adjoining. Both are noisier, however.”

“They'll do.” He saw her realize that they would be farthest from the ballroom at the back.

“Provide all that might be needed. Wines, fruit, brandy. And the meals will need to be more varied, especially dinner….”

What else?

“Don't you worry, my lord,” the housekeeper said. “Just let me know if there's anything in particular the ladies and gentleman would or wouldn't like, and I'll see to everything.”

She might as well have patted him on the head. In his attempt to appear normal, he was acting as he never had before. In that other life that seemed a distant dream, he'd have carelessly told her the number of guests and left it all up to her.

He escaped to his room. Salter was there, assessing him for the ravages of the expedition.

“I'm alive and in one piece, but there's a problem.”

“Yes, sir?”

When Dare explained, Salter said, “A little early for this, sir, but these aren't strangers.”

“No.” Dare couldn't find words to speak of Mara. “I thought of giving it up entirely.”

“Most unwise, sir.”

“You're right, of course. Get Ruyuan. We need to discuss strategy.”

Dare waited for his mentor, inhaling and exhaling, as he'd learned could calm his desperate mind, aware of a new and unforeseen burden.

The thought of taking opium when under the same roof as Mara St. Bride revolted him.