To Rescue a Rogue (33 page)

“We've been friends for forty years, and if I'd listened to her about marriage, my life would have been better. Apparently you cared for little Arabel when she was kidnapped.”

Dare's face tightened. “I did little, being weak and in violent need of opium at the time.”

“You did enough to make the child regard you as some sort of angel. To achieve that when weak and in violent need of opium is most telling.” She seemed to brace herself. “My late husband was an addict. I know the nature of its hold. It tests a person like acid, eating away all but truth. It revealed him to be weak, but you seem not to be. Nor do you seem dishonorable or a coward. I will attend the ball.”

After a moment, Dare stirred. “Thank you.”

Mara thought it was more for the assessment of his character than the attendance.

They rose to go, but Lady Cawle said, “What of this woman who claims your adopted daughter? Arabella is concerned for the child.”

“We're seeking evidence,” Dare said.

“And if the evidence proves her story true?”

“Then I cannot deprive a mother of the child.”

“Nonsense. You have the power to do anything, and the child must come first.”

As soon as they were outside, Mara asked, “What did she mean? What could you do?”

“Ruthless, isn't she? I assume she meant that it would be simple to make Madame Clermont disappear.”

“Kill her? You wouldn't do that.”

“Thank you. It would certainly be possible, however. More subtly, I could refuse her access to Delphie while I draw the issue out in the courts until Delphie's of age. Any money Madame Clermont had would dry up long before mine.”

“Instead you're bending backward to make everything easy for her.” His behavior was exasperating, but she'd expect nothing less.

“I'm doing what's right, Mara. What I hope is right. But Lady Cawle is correct. Delphie's welfare must trump legal rights.”

“So we use Major Hawkinville's solution.”

“Yes.”

They walked back to Yeovil House, discussing the implications. It would not be pleasant to share their home with Madame Clermont, but it would be better than any alternative. It would probably be a hardship for her to live in England, but everyone was going to have to make sacrifices.

Turning into Great Charles Street, they encountered Nicholas Delaney. “I was coming to see if there was anything I could do.”

“Gorgons on one side,” Dare said, “krakens on the other. I'm seeking smooth water between, but damned if I can see any.”

They entered the house to find Delphie sitting on the bottom step of the grand staircase, clutching Mariette. Pierre stood on guard, wearing his sword and looking fierce. One of the nursery maids hovered, wringing her hands.

At sight of Dare, Delphie launched herself at him. When he picked her up, she clutched him tight.

“What happened?” Dare asked Pierre, between soothing the little girl.

“That woman hit her, papa.”

“Where is Madame Clermont now?” Dare's voice was cold with fury.

“Lying on her bed,” Pierre said with satisfaction.

“One could ask,” Nicholas said, “why madam hit Delphie.” He directed it at Pierre.

The boy stuck out his chin, but then muttered, “Delphie didn't want to play with her, Uncle Nicholas.” After a moment, he added, “Delphie kicked her.”

Dare looked at the boy. “War, is it?”

Pierre looked worried, but he nodded, mouth set.

Dare kissed Delphie's hair and looked at her face, which showed no marks except those of tears. “Perhaps if you kicked Madame Clermont it was not so wicked of her to hit you?”

“I hate her.”

“I will not let her take you away from me, but you must try to be kinder to her.”

“I must?” Delphie asked.

“You must, or I will be disappointed in you.”

She sighed. “Then I will try, Papa. But it will be very hard.”

He put her down. “We will go back upstairs.”

A child attached themselves to a hand each. “May we not go out, Papa?” Pierre whined.

“Not yet,” Dare said as they went up the stairs, the banisters of which where already circled by ribbon and artificial flowers. “Some of Madame Clermont's family might be out there, and they might try to steal you away.”

“Then we will definitely not go out,” said Delphie. “And anyway, the ball is
amusant
.” The child's spirits were returning.

Dare left the children in the schoolroom and knocked on the door to the nursery. When given permission, he went in and closed the door. Voices soon rose, and then Madame Clermont could be heard weeping.

Dare came out, his face carefully blank, and spoke to Mara. “I have explained Hawkinville's solution to her, and that I will use the legal stratagem if she refuses. And, of course, that she is never to hit Delphie again.”

“A middle way of sorts, but stormy waters.”

“There are no calm seas and pleasant breezes. I must go.” He touched Mara's arm as he passed, but that was all.

“He suggested marrying her,” Mara said to Nicholas after Dare had left..

“Marrying Madame Clermont?” Nicholas asked. “That wouldn't serve.”

“No.”

“Let's find somewhere to talk.”

Mara took Nicholas to the small drawing room, but nervously. She sensed an energy in him and wasn't sure it promised well.

“I have a strange notion,” he said when the door was closed. “It offers hope, but rather uselessly, and some unpleasantness. It may not suit Dare, or it might help—”

“Talk sense,” Mara interrupted.

He smiled. “You are
very
like Simon. The sense is this: On seeing little Delphie with so defiant, I saw a distinct resemblance to The´re`se Bellaire.”

Mara stared. “She could be that woman's true daughter?”

“It's a raw idea I'm still digesting—what a horrible concept. But I'm becoming more convinced by the moment. I've glimpsed the resemblance before, but assumed she'd picked up some of The´re`se's mannerisms. If The´re`se allowed a child to grow inside her—and that's hard to believe—she would never have cared for it herself. She certainly had no infant with her in 1814. But she might have placed it with a family, then retrieved it for this purpose.”

“Placed it with Madame Clermont's family? That doesn't help. In all ways that matter, she would be madam's daughter.”

“The child would no more be a Clermont than a Debenham, but I don't think that's it. Before the run up to Waterloo, I doubt The´re`se had anything to do with a backwater like Halle. Her orbit was around Napoleon. When he abdicated to Elba in 1814, she was desperate enough to come to England and plan a move to America, but as soon as he resumed power, she returned to his circle. I wonder…”

“What?” Mara felt as if her head was spinning.

Nicholas slowly smiled. “Sheer speculation, but the only reason I can imagine The´re`se bearing a child and paying it any heed at all is that she thought it could be useful. What,” he asked, eyes brilliant, “if Delphie's father was Napoleon himself?”

Mara sat down. “This is fantastical. But even if true, what use is that?”

“I did say it was useless,” he pointed out. “But if we were completely certain that Madame Clermont is not the child's mother, it would alter things, would it not?”

“Yes. Yes, it would. But how can we be certain?”

“We can't yet, but there is a look of The´re`se, and Delphie has that cleft in her chin like Napoleon.”

Mara exhaled. “So when we hear from Halle, it now seems possible it will be news that Madame Clermont is an impostor. I must tell Dare.” But then she bit her lip. “How will he feel if Delphie is the daughter of that vile woman? And of Napoleon!”

“Certainly an extraordinary mix. He need never know.”

“I couldn't keep something like that from him,” Mara protested. “But things are so difficult at the moment and it might not be true.”

“I leave it up to you,” Nicholas said.

Mara almost protested, but she would trust this sword to no one else. “Do you know Feng Ruyuan?” she asked.

“Very well.”

“I thought so. Sometimes it would be pleasant to be the river rather than the rock.”

He smiled and it turned into a laugh. “Eleanor has said the same thing. I rather think, however, that if you are a rock, Mara St. Bride, it's a volcanic one.”

Mara's face burned and she rose. “I think you're amber,” she said, and had the satisfaction of seeing him take a moment to understand.

“Eternal imprisoner of insects?” he asked.

She'd meant simply from his amber-colored eyes.

“Make me coral,” he said. “Built of tiny bits and pieces, but occasionally sharp. Do you return to Marlowe House?”

“Soon,” Mara said. “But first I need to speak with Ruyuan.”

Nicholas didn't try to stop her and the Chinese man was available. Mara sat with him for two hours learning about opium and what would happen when Dare fought the final battle.

She returned to Marlowe House, her mind swirling with problems but giving thanks because they'd avoided the worst.

That night, however, when Mara was about to prepare for bed, someone knocked at her door. Ruth opened it and admitted Jancy. A pale, stark-eyed Jancy.

“What is it?” Mara asked, turning cold.

Jancy took her hands. “Dare's been challenged to a duel.”

“What?”

J
ancy drew Mara to the sofa, or Mara drew Jancy, but they ended up there, holding hands.

“Who?” Mara asked.

“Berkstead.”

“What?”
Mara exclaimed again. “Oh, the…rat! Dare's not going to accept, is he?”

“Simon's gone to Yeovil House to talk to him. Would you believe it's over Madame Clermont?”

“What?”

“I know. It's insanity. But apparently Berkstead's decided that Dare is Delphie's father and must do the honorable thing by Delphie's mother—Madame Clermont. What's more, he's posted the challenge all over Town. You must know the whole question about Delphie has become a matter for public excitement, and some are saying that rank and privilege are persecuting a poor woman deprived of her child.”

“Oh, no. I had no idea. What do we do?”

“I don't know. Dare could refuse to meet him, but then it might revive the idea that he's a coward.”

Mara stood. “I have to go to him.”

“It's half past ten.”

“What does that matter? Ruth, my cloak and bonnet.”

“Milady—”

“Do
not
argue. Jancy, can you order a carriage, please?”

Jancy stood. “Of course, and I'll come, too.”

They were soon rattling through the streets, a footman with them as protection, though Mara didn't think any of this directly threatened either of them. At Yeovil House they threw the attending footman into confusion. Lord Austrey was in the house, yes. With Lord Darius, yes. But in Lord Darius's bedroom.

“That doesn't matter,” Mara declared and hurried upstairs.

She knocked and Simon opened the door. His brows rose, but he let them in.

Dare was pacing, and Mara could see how bad a time it was for him to face something like this. She went and took his hands. “The man's a rat. No, a scorpion.”

It summoned a slight laugh. “And God knows where the why is in this. I can't think straight. He's not entitled to demand that I meet him tomorrow, but if I don't…”

“He'll make it look like cowardice. I think we should go and sort this out, face-to-face.”

“How?”

“I can try again to convince him that I would not marry him with a pistol to my head. We can possibly appeal to whatever vestiges of sanity remain in his thick skull.” She turned to speak to the others. “He's not bad or mad. Not long ago he was a rational man and I enjoyed his company. I can't believe that's all been eroded away.”

“It's worth a try,” said Simon, looking at Dare. “He's at the Golden Cross, which is nearby.”

Dare nodded. “If you'll excuse me.”

Mara realized what he needed and left with the others. He would take some opium in order to cope. When would they ever have peace?

When they were in a reception room, waiting, she said, “I wish I'd never met Berkstead.”

“It's not your fault,” Simon said, putting an arm around her. “You didn't do anything to give him this mad illusion.”

Mara burst into tears and confessed.

Simon and Jancy stared at her. “How could you?” Jancy asked.

“I don't know. It is so obviously insane now, but at the time it was simply a game. It was very, very stupid, but it's still no reason to persecute me like this. He sent me that awful silk, Jancy, with a note about our wedding night. I should have burned it, but I told Ruth she could sell it.” She shuddered. “He was following me. Spying on me.”

“You should have told me,” Simon said.

“I never imagined…If anything terrible happens, this will all be my fault.”

Jancy hugged her. “No, it won't, and it won't.”

Mara heard footsteps and sprang apart to attempt a bright smile for Dare as he came in.

He wasn't fooled. He took her in his arms. “Somehow, we'll sail through these storms to calm waters. Neither kraken, nor Gorgon, nor beast will consume us. Come, let's deal with Berkstead.”

 

The Golden Cross was a busy place, even close to midnight, and their arrival didn't cause surprise. The request for Captain Berkstead did, but a coin got the room number and a general direction. Simon knocked and, on demand, gave his name.

The door was flung open by a haughty Berkstead, but then he gaped. They all went in. Someone else was there—the chunky-faced officer from Almack's. He glared at them all and announced his name. “Lowestoft. Berkstead's second.”

Berkstead's eyes were fixed on Mara and she saw in them a warped kind of devotion. She stepped forward to attempt reason.

“Captain Berkstead, you are suffering under a dreadful error. I know I may have misled you, but I don't love you. I have never loved you or wanted to marry you. You must believe me.” Seeing no reaction in his fixed expression, Mara added, “I'm not being forced to say this!”

“Yet you come under guard.”

She turned to the men. “Please leave us.”

“No,” Dare said.

Berkstead came to life. “See! Why can't you see? If you're not being compelled by force, you must be under some sort of dementia. I cannot let you plunge into the hell of marriage to a despicable man like Debenham.”

Mara hit him. She'd not intended to—her hand whipped out and did it all of its own. Her leather gloves must have softened the blow, but he staggered back in shock as much as anything, then surged forward, fury in his eyes.

Dare was between them. Berkstead froze, in part perhaps because Lowestoft had taken his arm.

“You started that rumor about me,” Dare said.

“What rumor?” But his eyes flickered.

“That I fled the field at Waterloo. Fortunately for you, we have a witness to correct that mistake.”

Mara worked at not showing surprised relief and saw confusion on Lowestoft's face.

“Fortunately?” Berkstead's chin went up. “Why should I be pleased by that?”

“Because I won't have to take steps to make you admit to the world that you spread an invention out of pure malice.”

“Threatening me from your eminence?” Berkstead sneered, but he'd backed up a step. He recovered like a toy on a spring, however, making Mara despair.

“You can't force lies down people's throat with a title these days,” the major blustered. “Or steal children and abuse defenseless women.” He pushed his head forward to glare. “Are you going to marry the woman you wronged?”

“Have you even met Madame Clermont?” Dare asked. Opium must give immense patience.

“Do you deny she's at your house and claims to be the true mother of your daughter?”

“No.”

“And a duke's house takes in any raggle tail who turns up with a pretty story?”

“Major Berkstead,” Dare said, “I have been advertising for the children's parents for nearly a year. Of course I'm interested in any claimant. I'm investigating the woman's story, but as she's alone in a foreign land, my parents have kindly given her lodging. She's a complete stranger to me, and when she conceived Delphie, I was at Cambridge. I have never claimed that Delphie is my true child.”

Facts and Dare's almost eerie calm were having a strong effect on Captain Lowestoft and seemed to deflate the major. Berkstead turned to Mara.

“I must protect you, my darling. Debenham's an opium eater! I know what that means. It doesn't matter what he says. He'll always put the poppy first. You'll never be able to rely on him. You'd be able to rely on me. I'd never hurt you.”

Mara suddenly saw a possible way.

“Yes, I probably would be able to rely on you,” she said gently. “That's why I've always thought of you as an uncle, Major Berkstead. You are, I believe, forty-one, and I am but eighteen. How can you ever have thought us suited to marriage?”

His jaw dropped.

“As an older friend,” Mara continued, “of course you are concerned about my future, but if my loving family approves, how can I be wrong? Lord Darius has been almost a part of my family since I was a child. That's why we all know he will win free of the drug. But it's also why I know that if he didn't, he would still be a loving, trustworthy husband.”

Dare took her hand.

Mara squeezed it, but kept her attention on Berkstead. “That's also why I know without proof that he didn't turn coward and flee the battle. It was very wrong of you, a soldier, to plant that unjust accusation.”

She heard a mutter of agreement from the captain, who said, “What's the truth, old fellow?”

Berkstead's mouth shuddered as if he might be fighting tears. “I…I might have been mistaken. I only wanted to protect her,” he said to his friend. “She's so young, so innocent. A sprite.” He turned back to Mara. “You need a shield from the harshness of life. You don't know. You can't know what's best for yourself!”

Before Mara could protest, Simon did it for her. “Stop that infernal drivel, man. Mara has more sense and wisdom in her little finger than you have in your whole body.”

Berkstead turned on him. “Then why did she slip out at night to romp around with me?”

Mara thanked heavens that she'd confessed.

“Because, as she said, she saw you as an uncle and trusted you.”

Berkstead collapsed into a chair. “You see me as an uncle?” he asked Mara.

For a moment, pity almost softened her, but she met his eyes. “Yes,” she affirmed.

“Are we done with this idiocy?” Dare asked. “No one is going to meet you at pistol point, Berkstead, but if you create any more trouble, we will call up some very big battalions and crush you into the mud.”

The flat statement seemed to ring in the room. Berkstead licked his lips. “I see. You'll tell lies. Destroy my reputation…. I have only done what I thought was right. What I still think right. She is too good for you!”

“That, we can agree on,” Dare said. “No one need tell lies about you. If you persist, however, some will tell the truth. The terms are these,” Dare said. “You cease to meddle in our lives. You scrupulously avoid Mara, which includes avoiding her sister and Sir George. We will have to tell the Verneys about your behavior, but if you keep your side of this bargain, no one will let the wider world know of your malice and folly.”

“Because you don't want the world to know how shamelessly she behaved.”

Mara felt Dare tense and braced to prevent attack.

But Dare said, “If you care for Mara at all, you do not want the world to know of her innocent follies.”

“Innocent—” But Berkstead swallowed any further words. Mara wasn't surprised.

After a moment, Dare added, “I do have some sympathy, sir. Mara is wondrous and she has become your addiction. The better part of you is doubtless crying for you to be sane, but the baser part howls that life is not worth living without her, that it is your sacred duty to protect her. The beast can be defeated. You are reputed to be a brave man and you have friends. Fight.”

He looked at the shaken Captain Lowestoft. “Will you assist him, sir, and also keep these matters private?”

“Yes, of course. Of course.” The man braced himself. “It was I who spread the story at Almack's. I believed it. His wounds gave weight to his story. If you want satisfaction.”

“Heavens, no,” Dare said. “Let's put it behind us, like, please God, the war.”

He took Mara's hand and led her out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the inn.

“Will it work?” Simon asked as they walked along the street.

“I pray so,” Dare said. “Lowestoft seems to be a decent man.”

“What of the witness to counter his rumor?” Mara asked. “Who is it?”

“I lied,” Dare said. “One effect of opium at its height is that it makes it so very easy to lie.”

 

Mara returned to her bedroom in Marlowe House in no state to rest. When Ruth offered her laudanum, she dashed the bottle from her hand.

“But you must sleep, Miss Mara!”

“So must you, Ruth. Go away, please. I'll be all right.”

Solitude felt like a blessing, but Dare's presence would be a greater one. Mara leaned by the window, looking in the direction of Great Charles Street, trying to send her love and strength. In some ways this would be an easier night for him because he'd taken extra opium, but that would make it a worse one, too.

Mara found the disk that Ruyuan had given her, then worked on the patterns Ruyuan had taught her. They came back to her and she went through them again and again, visualizing Dare doing the same thing at Yeovil House. Slowly her mind cleared, and she hoped it meant his had, too. When she went to bed, she slept.

The next morning, Jancy came to take breakfast with her. “What are we going to do?”