Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2) (20 page)

It was bad enough before when he was constantly thinking of her dancing like some wild pagan queen, or of the movement of her shapely bottom as she leaned out of the carriage window as they’d approached Nottingham. But now, the image of her spread in open invitation on his billiard table, the scent and taste and sound of her, invaded his every thought. She was making his life complicated in ways he’d not imagined. She was certainly not a wife he’d have chosen for himself but a fever was upon him and he’d have to find a way to resolve the thing because he was not a man who shared.

He dealt with easier complications first, sending Oakes to hire five more men, ex-soldiers all to act as footmen, grooms and coachman. They wouldn’t be hard to find. The country was full of displaced soldiers unsuited for other jobs. Until this recent marriage he had been one himself. The sergeant would see to it they were armed and ready if their other skills were needed. He’d also swallowed his pride and sent a message to de Veres. He needed eyes and ears in London. The man knew things and Elizabeth trusted him.

And then there was Hope. It was clear she was unhappy and true he’d been neglectful. He could only imagine how she’d felt at the way she’d been betrayed. She had not come of her own accord and given that and what had passed between them he felt a greater responsibility than he had before.

He knew she’d been avoiding him. He hadn’t meant to insult or offend her after their…encounter, but she’d been in no mood to listen, and he in no mood to speak. Not about Caroline. Not to anyone. A little time and distance should make it easier to talk. Too much might make it impossible. Fortified with a shot of brandy, he set out to track her down.

She was not in the drawing room or library and there was no answer when he knocked on her door. He was about to take the search outside when he saw the housekeeper.

“She’ll be in the same place she goes every day,” Mrs. Overton told him. “Down the old east hall off the north wing.”

“She’ll be where?”

“In the room you told us all to stay out of. It seems she’s got it in her head to make it her own.”

Bloody hell!
The woman was a damned nuisance. What gave her the right? She went where she pleased. Took what she pleased. Did as she pleased, and now she’d launched an invasion of the most private recesses of his home. He stalked down the hall.

The door to the little room was half-open. She was perched on the window-seat, gazing outside. She was simply dressed and wearing an apron and there was a streak of soot smudging her cheek. A snow-white kitten sat in her lap pawing at a bit of lace trailing from her sleeve. She patted it absently as she watched out the window, apparently deep in thought. He was arrested by the scene. In the past he had wondered what she was, but for the first time he wondered who she was.

The kitten saw him first. It arched its back and hissed. Hope looked up at him, startled, her face white with surprise. He collected himself quickly. “What is
that
thing doing in here? It should be in the kitchen or outside. There are… many valuables in this room.”

“I should like to keep it with me. It’s only a kitten, Captain. And it’s very well-behaved.” There was a note of defiance in her voice.

“We are not at the palace now, where every idiot has a dog or monkey or other small pet stuck in a muff or sleeve. Send it to the barn where it can make itself useful. You may have had your way with…

The kitten jumped from the seat and ambled across the floor to rub against his boots, then pounced on the toes, its tiny little claws digging into the leather.

“Bloody hell! Would you stop that!”

“She means no harm, Captain,” Hope said, half-rising from her seat.

He reached down and pinched its nape, plucking it off his boot. It squirmed in his hand and scratched him, and his face twisted in displeasure. He reminded himself that he hadn’t come here to argue, though it was clear the elf was prepared to do battle. “Really? Your bloody little savage meant no harm? And you call this well-behaved? One can only wonder what havoc it will wreak when grown.”

He plunked it back down on the window-seat beside her. “Here. Take your Fluffy or Princess or whatever you’ve named it and keep it out from underfoot. No climbing curtains or scratching furniture or out to the barns it goes.”

“You don’t mind if I keep her?”

He sighed as he settled into an armchair, taking note of what she’d done with the room as he stretch out his booted feet. It shone with a luster he didn’t remember and he was more comfortable than he’d expected. “This is your home, too. Teach it some manners.”

“Her name is Daisy.”

He nodded. “White fur, those colored eyes. Naturally, she’s named for a flower.”

Hope wasn’t sure if he was making an effort at conversation, or was simply being sarcastic. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I had a kitten very much like her when I was a child. I...I lost her one day and never found out what became of her. This little one...well...they are so much alike.”

“Was your other one ill-behaved, too?”

She was about to make a defensive retort when she caught the slight smile playing about his lips. “Yes,” she said with a grin. “I’m afraid she was. I will replace your boots.”

“There’s no need. My boots have withstood far worse than the fangs and claws of a rampaging kitten. Hope, has no one told you that I prefer this part of the house to remain unused?”

“You haven’t told me. And the servants don’t speak to me except for Rose.”

“Ah, yes. As you told me your first day here. I have to remedy that.”

“Why don’t you use this room? It’s a wonderful space filled with marvelous things and has a beautiful garden out back.”

“It was my curiosity cabinet when I was a boy.” He gave her a grim smile. “I suppose you might say I’ve lost my curiosity since then, and I generally prefer not to revisit my youth.”

“May I use it, though? I’ll take good care of it and be very careful.”

He chuckled. The chit could read his thoughts. “I can see how you value it. It looks a good deal better than I remember. But you’ll need the fireplace working, a servant’s bell and a better supply of liquor to really do it justice.”

“I tried to poke around the fireplace and clean it out, but it’s a bit too complicated for me.”

That explained the soot-stained face. “You should leave that work to the servants. Oakes can tell you who’s best for the job.”

There was an awkward silence between them, but it was the first civil conversation they’d had since the afternoon in Nottingham. Hope didn’t want it to end, and she didn’t want him to leave. When he exerted himself to be pleasant she found him quite likeable. She struggled for a topic of conversation. “In the drawing room…”

“Yes?”

“There are two portraits. Are they your mother and father?”

“Yes.”

“And where are they now?”

“I have no idea. In heaven one hopes, should there be such a place. They died several years ago while visiting London, during an outbreak of the plague.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“As I said, it was many years ago.”

“And in this room. There are two miniatures.”

“My sister Caroline, yes. She is dead, too. I’d rather not discuss it if you don’t mind. There are other matters, though, that—”

He stopped in surprise as the housekeeper barged into the room.

“I see you have found her, my lord. I tried to tell her about keeping that creature but she would not listen and—”

“Mrs. Overton, you have forgotten to knock. My wife and I are speaking. In future, please remember that you are the servant here and she is the mistress. It is not her place to listen to you, it is yours to listen to her. When it comes to the household you shall take Lady Newport’s word as mine. You will see this is understood by all members of the staff. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes. Yes, my lord, my lady.” Red-faced and stammering Mrs. Overton curtsied to them both and hurried from the room.

“Well! There’s that taken care of.”

Hope found herself wincing in unexpected sympathy. “Oh, dear. Perhaps that was just a bit harsh.”

“Was it, damn it? I’ve no clue when it comes to these matters. One never has to worry about such things with soldiers. I swear I’ve yet to see one of them run away in tears. Now…in fairness to Mrs. Overton, I have to ask...did you threaten to punch her?”

Hope gave him an innocent look. “I most certainly did not!”

“How curious. Why would she say such a thing?”

“Perhaps she can’t hold her drink. My mother was much the same.”

“Perhaps. Are you certain you said nothing to her?”

She shrugged, and then kissed her kitten’s pretty head. “She did accuse me of being Hope Mathews. All I did was agree, and promise her that some of the stories she’d heard, like the one about Orange Moll, were true.”

“She accused you of being Hope Mathews?”

“Yes. An evil courtesan bent on no good and the like. I told her I was your wife but she refused to believe it. I daresay she meant to protect you from my wicked influence and—” She turned crimson as she realized what she was saying.

“Ahem…” He cleared his throat. “Yes, well…I am sorry. That was my fault. I should have made it clear you were to be respected and obeyed from the beginning. I should have listened when you said there was a problem. I hope that it is rectified now. What
did
you do to Orange Moll?”

“She is six foot tall and I knocked her flat,” Hope said with a wicked grin.

His rich laughter echoed through the halls of Cressly for the first time in years.

“You
are
an evil wench, Hope Nichols” he said when he had caught his breath. The picture of his tiny guest flooring the fearsome Mrs. Overton with one punch left him with a rueful grin. He didn’t doubt she could do it. It was another thing to add to the growing list of images that crowded his brain whenever she came to mind. “As a consequence, I am placing the entire mess in your hands. If you insist on upsetting my household the responsibility to deal with it shall be yours. I expect this will mean that these foolish dramas will no longer wash up at my door.”

“And what of outdoors? Who do I speak to about the gardens and such?”

“Oakes, I suppose, but that needn’t concern you.”

“Perhaps he can tell me who might repair the fountain in the hidden garden. And there’s so much work that needs to be done outside.”

“No! I don’t want you tearing up the gardens.”

“I don’t want to tear them up. Just weeding and trimming and tidying and such.”

“There are gardeners for that.”

“It hardly seems so. It should be a cheerful place yet it’s sad and neglected. I have many ideas you know. I had many a talk with John Rose. He is the royal gardener and a botanist of great renown. He is experimenting with growing pineapples. Have you ever tasted—”

“Leave the gardens alone for now. If you grow bored there are other things you can do. The library is there any time you want it, the stables as well, and if you wish, you can take a carriage to Nottingham for shopping.”

“What? I can shop?”

“Yes, of course. It’s hardly what you’re used to and the roads are rutted, but if you wish to shop then by all means do so. You will wait until Oakes has returned and take a complement of armed men with you, though.”

“You’ll not accompany me?”

Was that a hint of wistfulness in her voice? Theirs was a complicated situation but despite their differences and misunderstandings it pleased him to think so. Up until now she had been wary, defensive and mistrustful and he certainly couldn’t blame her for that. Her quiet but determined campaign to stake a claim to the house showed she was a fighter—a thing he admired. But in those quiet moments when she lowered her guard he glimpsed something that intrigued and fascinated, too.

“Captain?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry, no. It’s not possible right now. There are important matters I must take care of in London. I will leave by week’s end and expect to be gone a fortnight or so.”

Hope felt a surprising sense of disappointment. Just when she was warming to him he was preparing to go. She remembered their brief truce in Nottingham, and how his smiles and charm had heated her blood.
I want to know this man. I want to know him as a lover, and I want to know him as a friend.

“I…what should I shop for?”

“I’d never thought to hear a woman ask that!” He pulled a velvet pouch from under his shirt. “When your carriage came from London it came with this. Here are twenty gold sovereigns. They belong to you. You also have two thousand pounds deposited with a London goldsmith. The papers are in a drawer in my study and I’ve made you a key.”

“It’s—”

“Your savings. Yes. Do what you will with it, but don’t spend it on the house. His Majesty gifted us ten thousand pounds when we married. If you want to decorate and claim the place, or if you see a need, use that. Just put it on my account.”

“You would trust me with it?”
So that is what Charles saw as my worth. More than any whore, but less than Castlemaine’s necklace
. She felt a twinge of annoyance, but it didn’t sting as it might have before.

“You supervised a large town house and staff in Pall Mall. It appeared well-managed and tasteful. I’m sure you know more about such things than I do. You don’t
have
to, Hope.”

“No! I do! I will. You may rely on it.”

It pleases me to see her smile. “
Good. I have but two conditions. Leave the gardens be and no mirrors, unless they be for your own room.”

“No mirrors?”

“Having visited your home, it’s clear you can’t be trusted in that regard.”

“But mirrors add light and warmth to a house, Captain Nichols, which is something your home badly needs. They bring—”

“Call me Robert. Please. Mirror upon mirror encircling a man makes him feel dizzy and ill. When first I met you, I feared I was going to spew.”

“That was why you looked so annoyed? I thought you were glaring at me!”

“God no!” he said with a chuckle. “You couldn’t be further from the mark. Despite what you might think of me, I’m not in the habit of grimacing at beautiful women. At least not on purpose.”