What a Rogue Desires (23 page)

By whom? Slowly she got to her feet, thinking frantically. It was early, she guessed from the light. Was the magistrate already here to pass judgment and sentence her? She stepped into the corridor, her muscles stiff and sore from a night spent huddled in the cold, and the constable banged the door closed behind her. With a wave of his hand, he motioned her down the hallway—treating her rather kindly this time, she thought. Last night he’d dragged her by the arm, pushing her from side to side with great enthusiasm.

Simon’s face appeared in the tiny barred window in his cell door. “Where are you taking her?” he demanded. The constable rapped on his door and grunted in reply. “Don’t hurt her!” Simon said shrilly.

Her throat felt stuffed with wool. Silently, she gave him a quavering smile before the constable nudged her forward. Vivian looked back at her brother as long as she could, until they rounded the corner. It could conceivably be the last time she ever saw Simon. She clenched her jaw and blinked, trying not to humiliate herself by crying.

The constable opened another locked door, then led her down a short corridor into a small plain room. He opened the door for her, then stood aside and motioned for her to walk in. He’d been strangely quiet on this walk, and Vivian had to force herself to step into the room, fully expecting to see the hangman waiting for her, noose in hand.

Instead she saw David, as she had seen him the night he escorted her to the theater. His clothing elegant, his demeanor composed, the sight was too much for her. She stopped short, blinking hard. It was one last cruel joke of fate, to see him here now.

“Ah,” he said calmly. “That’s the one.”

The prune-faced sheriff gave her an angry glare. “Certain of that, sir?”

David looked at him. “Are you questioning my eyesight, or my judgment?”

“No,” muttered the sheriff. “But see here—I can’t just release her on your word.”

“Why not?” asked David, soundly mildly surprised.

“She’s—she’s a highway thief!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She was a passenger on the coach, was she not?”

“Yes,” the sheriff admitted.

“Did she take anything from any other passenger?”

“No,” the sheriff admitted.

“What evidence of guilt do you have, then?”

“One of the thieves recognized her,” said the sheriff defiantly. “Our man saw it quite clearly.”

“So you are taking the word of a third party, who believes a thief made some sign he recognized this woman, over my word that she is innocent.”

The sheriff opened his mouth, and then he closed it. He glared at Vivian again.

“Are you injured, my dear?” asked David in the same calm, unhurried tone. Vivian knew he was up to something, but she had no idea what, and so merely shook her head. It wasn’t clear her voice would function at the moment anyway.

“Very good. Let’s be on our way, then.” He said it looking right at her, but he didn’t move.

Neither did Vivian. “No,” she heard herself blurt out. “I can’t.”

David rocked back on his heels and looked at her. “Whyever not? I should think you eager to be quit of the place.”

“There’s a boy,” she said, her voice trembling a little. “Just a boy. In the jail.”

David turned that inquiring look on the sheriff, who flushed.

“He was very kind to me last night,” Vivian went on, her eyes filling with tears quite involuntarily. “I can’t bear to think what will happen to him.” She had unconsciously slipped into one of her familiar poses, making her voice young and her manner tragic.

“The sheriff says he is a thief, my dear,” remarked David, as if he did not care. But he was playing along, and Vivian clutched at it.

A tear slipped from her eye. “He did not want to be a thief! His parents died and he was sold to thieves, and beaten if he did not do as they told him!”

“Your heart is too soft, madam.”

“And you have none, if you can abandon a boy barely out of shortcoats to a terrible fate. I believe he is a good lad. He stood up for me when the constable’s men pushed me. I cannot simply leave him here to hang.”

“They pushed you?” David turned to glare coldly at the Mr. Spikes.

“Madam, he’s a thief,” said Mr. Spikes impatiently. “Thieves hang. I beg your pardon for any roughness of my men, but we are upholding the law, pursuing violent criminals—”

“I’m certain he is not!” Tears began to roll down her cheeks again. She turned a solemn face to David. “If he must hang, I must stay here until the end, to comfort him and try to save his soul.”

David pressed his lips together and looked wildly annoyed. “Of course you shan’t. We are returning to London this instant.”

“No! How can you be so heartless?” Vivian covered her face with her hands and began to weep in earnest, heart-wrenching sobs that shook her shoulders.

His expression grim, David turned to Spikes. “Ten guineas to release the boy.”

“I should say not,” said Spikes indignantly. “He’s a highwayman, and he’ll hang for it.”

“Fifteen guineas.”

“No, sir, I cannot.” Spikes lifted his chin and folded his arms.

David dug in his coat pocket and opened his purse. One by one, he began stacking bright golden guineas on the desk. “I am quite certain the hangman will not miss one lad.” David made a stack of five and set it aside, beginning a new one. “I shall know no peace if she does not have her way in this.” Vivian wept more loudly than ever. Now ten guineas sat on the desk. Spikes’s eyes strayed to them and lingered. David placed five more guineas beside the ten. “I should hate to trouble my solicitors to come all this way to set him free.” With five soft clinks, five more golden guineas dropped onto the desk.

Mr. Spikes looked at the coins again and sighed. “How can I release him?” he asked plaintively. “Bow Street wants them all fetched to London this day.”

David took out one of his cards and placed it on the desk. “You may send them to me.”

The sheriff looked almost pitiable in his helpless fury. “That’s most irregular, sir.”

“Is it?” David smiled thinly.

For a moment it was quiet in the small room, as Spikes looked from the money to Vivian to David and back to the money, seeming to shrink with every passing second. “Chawley, bring the lad,” he said at last.

With a surprised grunt, the constable waddled from the room again. “You’ll not be wanting anything else, will you, m’lord?” asked Spikes in despair.

David smiled faintly. “I don’t believe so.”

Spikes let out a breath of relief. Vivian wiped her eyes with her fingers, barely breathing at all. She strained her ears for footsteps, and soon enough heard them, two sets, coming toward them.

And then Simon walked into the room, his thin shoulders hunched and chains rattling from his wrists. White showed around the blue of his eyes as he looked all around the room, finally fixing his gaze on her.

“Do you wish to give up a life of crime and become an honest lad?” she asked him in her sweetest, clearest voice.

Simon eyed her as if she’d gone mad. “Aye,” he said in a hoarse croak. She clapped her hands together and turned to beam at David. David sighed and waved one hand toward the door. Another man, standing just behind David, stepped forward then, making Vivian start; she hadn’t even noticed him. He murmured something to the defeated Mr. Spikes, who just nodded once, his expression more sour than ever. The golden guineas had disappeared from the desk.

“Shall we?” David drawled, and Vivian nodded. The constable opened the door for them, and they filed out. In the outer room Vivian could hear someone shouting; Flynn, she realized. He must have seen them bring out her and Simon, and put together what was happening.

“How dare you keep me and let them go,” bellowed Flynn from the recesses of the jail. “I deserve to go, not those brats! You’re being played for a fool, you fat noddy! They planned the whole thing! A fraud, I tell you, fraud! It’s a job they’re pulling on you, right this minute!”

David stopped and listened for a moment, turning to Mr. Spikes. “What on earth is that?”

Mr. Spikes puffed up his chest in spite of himself. “The Black Duke. Or rather,” he amended hastily, “him what calls himself the Black Duke.”

“Are you certain?” David asked.

“Quite, sir,” said Spikes with pride. “I took that ring from his finger myself.”

David flexed his hand that wore the signet. “Excellent. My commendation, Mr. Spikes. Hang him high, would you?”

Evidently deciding it was best to rescue what he could of a nobleman’s good opinion, or relieved that David wasn’t asking for any other prisoners to be released, Mr. Spikes bowed. “That we shall, m’lord.”

The constable rushed to open the door for them, and David led the way into the glorious sunshine of morning. Vivian took a deep breath, trying not to shake. It seemed unreal, that she was walking out of the jail, free, when she had expected to be climbing the steps of the gallows when next she saw the sky above her. And Simon was right behind her, still cowed into silence by uncertainty but with her all the same. Somehow, David had come for her and gotten them both out of jail.

An enormous coach, gleaming lacquered black with four equally glossy black horses in front, stood waiting. A servant in gray and blue velvet jumped to open the door, and David paused, putting out his hand to her. Vivian put her grimy hand in his spotless gloved hand, and let him help her up the step into the carriage. Simon followed, and then the other man who had been with David. Vivian waited, but the door swung shut. She tugged aside the velvet curtain at the window and peeked out to see David mounting a splendid gray horse. Without a glance her way, he nodded, and the coach started forward. Mr. Spikes remained where he was, and the last Vivian saw of him was his sour expression easing as he plunged one hand into his bulging pocket.

For a moment there was silence in the coach. Then the man across from them let out a whoop.

“What an adventure! Why, I’m certain my uncle never saw the like!”

Simon’s hand took hold of hers, and squeezed. Vivian squeezed back, cautioning him to stay quiet. “What do you mean?”

The man leaned forward, his face alight. “Getting you out of jail! I vow, when his lordship told me his plan it seemed incredible. But it worked. It worked!” He beamed at them for a moment as Vivian and Simon exchanged fleeting, alarmed, glances. “But I beg your pardon, madam,” said the man suddenly, his demeanor growing anxious. “You must not have known what was planned.”

“No,” said Vivian. “And I’m not at all certain I understand what happened.”

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he said quickly. “I am Roger Adams, private secretary to His Grace the duke of Exeter.”

Vivian stared at him without blinking. The duke of Exeter? Who the ruddy hell was he? “Are you, now?”

The young man nodded. “Yes, indeed. I have been assisting Lord David these past weeks during His Grace’s absence. I must say, nothing prepared me for the plan he proposed when he woke me last night!”

“Which was?” Vivian prompted, still digesting the fact that David’s brother was, apparently, a duke. A bloody duke!

“He declared we were going to rescue a lady from imprisonment,” exclaimed Mr. Adams. “And I was to play a vital role, although it didn’t proceed quite as his lordship said. Quite a challenge, to keep up with the workings of his mind. I daresay even His Grace could not have been more poised and patient, to say nothing of clever.”

Vivian’s eyes widened, and she tucked her chin down to hide her amazement. “That he was,” she mumbled in agreement, as Mr. Adams seemed to be waiting for her to acknowledge David’s cleverness. Clever! It was David’s sheer nerve Vivian had to admire most. Simon squeezed her hand again, demandingly, and she shook her head a little, telling him to wait. She didn’t know how to answer his questions in any event. “What’s he planned next?”

The delight faded from Mr. Adams’s face. “Well…well, madam, I don’t precisely know.”

She exhaled softly without realizing she had been holding her breath. “What next” was the main question that mattered to her now. She supposed she should be grateful if he just let them go and called the accounts even. There was no way she could ever repay him for her life and Simon’s. That pile of bright gold coins lingered in her memory. “Where are we going?”

“Back to London, I presume.” He sat back and beamed at them some more, as if now everything were right with the world. Vivian rolled her lower lip between her teeth and continued to ignore her brother’s repeated attempts to get her attention without Mr. Adams knowing about it. After a night in jail, she was filthy and tired, and no doubt stank of mildew and rotting straw. Simon could only be called a great deal more unkempt. What a sight they’d make, parading down David’s elegant, well-swept street: two thieves snatched from the hangman’s rope.

She pulled her hand free of Simon’s grip and clasped her fingers together in her lap, her eyes fixed on them. She was a fool. She hadn’t regretted anything she’d done up to this moment, when she realized that her hopes and fantasies had somehow built up a fairy tale kind of future for her and a duke’s brother. Just a “lordship” was bad enough, but a duke? When she’d seen David leaning elegantly against the constable’s desk, her heart had taken a leap like never before in her life: he’d come for her. Surely that meant…surely it
must
mean…

But it didn’t. It couldn’t. She was ten times a fool for having ever allowed the idea to enter her head, even unwittingly.

It was a long ride into London, but Vivian was still surprised when they arrived. She glanced at Simon nervously as the carriage stopped in front of the familiar town house, and she caught the indistinct sound of David’s voice outside. “Where are we?” asked Simon in a barely audible whisper.

“London, sir,” said Mr. Adams before Vivian could. “His lordship’s home, I believe.”

“Oh, aye,” said Simon wryly. “O’ course.”

The door swung open then, and his lordship himself stood in the opening. “Has everyone made it safely?” he asked, his gaze jumping around before landing on Vivian. “No one ill or unwell?”

“No, sir,” said Mr. Adams, who seemed eager to talk after the long, quiet journey. “Everything went off splendidly, just as you planned.”

“Close enough, at any rate.” David finally glanced away from Vivian. “Mr. Adams, I am hiring you away from my brother. Whatever he is paying you…” He paused, thinking. “I will pay you the same. Will you take the position?”

The secretary’s eyes went round. “Y-y-yes, sir,” he stammered. David nodded once.

“Very good. Give your notice the day he returns.”

“Yes, sir,” repeated Adams, beginning to smile again. “I will, sir!”

“Excellent. Take the coach back to Exeter House, would you?”

“Yes, sir. I will, sir.” Adams was now beaming idiotically. “Good day, madam,” he said to Vivian as David waited in the doorway, his hand outstretched to help her down.

She looked from that hand to the secretary, still almost too stunned to move. “Where are we?” muttered Simon insistently in her ear. Vivian shook herself.

“London.” She took David’s hand and let him help her down. She still didn’t quite understand what was happening, but there was nothing to be gained by sitting in the carriage pondering it. Simon jumped down behind her as David, still holding tight to her hand, turned and started up the steps. The carriage started off again, with Mr. Adams giving one last wave out the window. He, if no one else, seemed quite satisfied and pleased by the day’s events.

“Here, where are we going?” said Simon suspiciously. “Where are we?”

David paused, turning to face him as the door opened behind him. “My home,” he said. “Won’t you come in, Mr. Beecham?”

Simon’s eyes nearly started from his head, and he looked at his sister in amazement. She bit her lip and made a quick motion with her hand, for him to follow, and let David lead her inside.

Simon only followed as far as the hall, though, and there he planted his feet and assumed a stubborn expression that was startlingly familiar. “What’s happening, Viv?” he asked her. “How’d he get us out o’jail, and why’d he bring us here? How d’you know this cove?”

David took his time replying. He hadn’t thought very far ahead of getting them out of jail, and was still somewhat shocked he had succeeded in that. No doubt Bow Street would call on him again, once Mr. Spikes informed them what he had done, but that was later. In London, David was in his element, with the prestige of his family name to see him through, not to mention the Exeter solicitors at his command. But in many ways, the next minutes would be the most delicate part of the business. “Welcome to London,” he said at last. “I trust it will be more agreeable than your last abode.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed warily. “Who the bloody hell are you?” he asked.

David opened his mouth, but Vivian cut in. “He saved your ungrateful neck,” she said swiftly. “Do you need to know more?”

Simon cast another glance at David, then looked closer at his sister. “Yeah,” he growled. “I think I do. What’s he to you, Viv?”

David was quietly satisfied to see her blush bright pink. “He’s—he’s—you hush!” she stammered.

“There will be a meal in the kitchen for you,” David said then to Simon. “And a hot bath drawn upstairs in a guest room. Hobbs will direct you and see to your needs while I discuss something with your sister.” The butler, waiting discreetly nearby, stepped forward at his name.

“Discuss what?” Simon’s hands were in fists at his sides, and his blue eyes burned suspiciously in his pale, thin face. David was six inches taller, several stone heavier, and had no doubt the boy was ready to attack him to defend his sister’s honor.

“The solution to all our problems,” he answered honestly. The more he thought about it, the more David believed that. If Vivian agreed to his proposal, he could save both her and Simon from the hangman.

“You go on, Simon,” Vivian said at the same time. The boy glanced uncertainly between the two of them. “It’s all right,” she added. “Go on.”

“Well…” He hunched his shoulders and suddenly looked very young. “You call if you need me,” he told her almost plaintively.

She nodded, her expression as serious as his. David glanced at his new butler, and the man bowed his head.

“This way, sir,” said Hobbs, indicating the way to the kitchen. Simon hesitated another moment, then turned and went. David stepped away from Vivian for a moment, lowering his voice. “Hobbs,” he said, “the young man is another soul just saved from the wickedness of crime. I depend on you to look after him, making certain he is comfortable and well-settled. He shall be my guest for a time, until I can find him an honest place.”

The butler’s eyes shone. “Yes, my lord,” he whispered in reply. “I shall see to him myself.” David nodded and turned to go, but the butler spoke again. “Sir—if I may be so bold—I heard things, after I entered your employ, that suggested you consorted with immoral people. I never guessed that your motive—”

“Yes, yes,” said David with uneasy heartiness.

“Was so steeped in Christian charity and purity.” Hobbs gazed at him with something like reverence. “I am honored to serve you, sir.”

“Splendid,” said David. “I shan’t make a habit of this, you know. It has mostly proceeded from the impulse of the moment—and, of course, Christian charity. But see to the lad, would you?” The butler bowed very smartly, and hurried off with Simon. David let out his breath in relief, vowing to himself not to carouse at home anymore.

He turned to Vivian and held out his hand. “Come.”

Vivian gave him a somber nod, and together they went into the drawing room. David closed the doors behind him, and turned to see her standing stiff and anxious. He knew her well enough to see the tension in her now.

“It was a wonderful thing you did for us,” she said. “For me. I can never thank you enough for myself, let alone for Simon—”

“I did nothing for Simon,” he said. “I kept my promise to you.”

Her face grew pinker. “A promise you didn’t have to make, let alone keep.”

He put his head to one side. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Vivian’s lower lip trembled. “No,” she said. “That is, I knew you would
want
to keep it, but I never dreamed—I never imagined the lengths you’d go to.”

It brought a faint smile to his lips. “Odd, how many people have said that to me of late.”

“And I’ll repay you,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I will, somehow.”

“Ah,” he said. “Excellent. I was counting on that.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it without a word. He put out his hand. “Shall we sit down?”

Vivian had never felt so unsteady in her life. She crossed the room and took the seat he indicated. David sat opposite her, on the edge of the small sofa. Their knees were almost touching. She tucked her hands into the folds of her skirt and waited.

“Vivian,” he began, then stopped. David sighed, running his hands through his hair and letting his head hang forward. “I’m a thorough scoundrel,” he confessed. “The sad truth is that I’ve spent my life no better than you’ve spent yours—perhaps worse, in many ways. I had the advantages of wealth and family who looked out for me and saved me from my worse mistakes, advantages I gained through nothing more than the good fortune of being born to them. If my brother hadn’t risked his own life to help me, I would have been transported or killed this very year. I’ve been a thief, a liar, a man so consumed with his own pleasure that I’ve had affairs with other men’s wives and laughed about it. I even proposed to a woman once and then tricked her into thinking I was marrying her when I had changed my mind.” Vivian felt her eyes growing wide. This was not what she had expected him to tell her.

“I’m not an eligible match,” he went on. “Or if I am, it’s due only to my name and my brother’s fortune, and I don’t particularly fancy being wanted for either of those reasons. I’m…I’m a fairly disreputable person.” He cast a wary glance her way, but Vivian couldn’t make any reply. “And I’m not rich. I would be, if I hadn’t spent every last farthing my brother gave me and then some. I have this house”—Vivian couldn’t help sneaking a quick glance around in disbelief—“which means I’m not poor,” he allowed, seeing that glance. “I shall always have a place to live and enough to eat. And my brother, for whatever reason, still trusts me and seems ready to give me yet another chance, so I have hopes of rebuilding a fortune to support myself.” He paused for a moment. “It will take me a while to be comfortable,” he said. “And I may never be received in society again.”

He was watching her as if he wanted her thoughts on this. Vivian swallowed. “Oh.”

“But I love you,” he said, his voice yearning. “I love your spirit and courage and the way you aren’t afraid to risk everything for someone you love.”

Her breath came out in a sob. “Oh, but how could I not? They might have hanged you in my place,
my
place, David, and I couldn’t live with it…”

He blinked. “I meant for Simon.”

She slipped to her knees, taking his hand between hers. “But didn’t you know?” she asked shyly. “Didn’t you know that I loved you?”

Never in her life had a man looked at her the way he was looking at her. “I love you,” he repeated, bringing her hands to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Then you’ll marry me?”

Vivian gasped, so startled she almost toppled backwards. “Marry you? But—no, but—I never thought you meant that!”

He pulled her back, leaning forward at the same time until their faces were bare inches apart. “What did you think I meant?”

“Well—well,” she floundered; what
had
she expected him to say? “I don’t know! But I’m not the sort of girl a man like you marries.”

“And I’m not the sort of man a woman like you marries,” he replied. “You’d be taking an awful risk.”

She stared at him, her lips pressed together. “What sort of woman am I?”

“A clever one,” he said at once. “A bright, courageous, loyal woman who could surely do better than an irresponsible jackanapes like me.”