The Rake's Ruined Lady (22 page)

Elise had been holding her son by his tiny hands, helping Adam take a shaky step on the carpet. As her sister’s voice faded away she sent Beatrice an astute glance. ‘I’m guessing that the person who years ago propelled you towards Colin has now drawn you away.’

Beatrice’s head swayed back on her shoulders in despair, but it was answer enough for Elise. Lifting Adam to sit on the sofa, she came quickly to her sister’s side. ‘I like Hugh—you know I do, Bea—but he is...different from the charming gentleman we knew all those years ago. I’m not saying his good fortune has spoiled his character...’ she began diplomatically.

‘Well, if you won’t say it, I will,’ Bea quietly replied. ‘But it doesn’t matter...I love him anyway. I think I knew it that first time when he came to Hertfordshire with the news about the dowager’s illness.’ Bea turned to face Elise. ‘It frightened me that he could turn up out of the blue like that and turn my world upside down...’

‘Does Hugh know how you feel about him?’ Elise asked hoarsely.

Bea shook her head. ‘As you say, he is very different now. I wouldn’t embarrass myself, or him, with a declaration of love. Oh...he desires me—he has made that clear too—but what future is there in being taken into his harem?’ Bea stifled a mournful chuckle with the back of a hand. ‘Colin took pains to tell me that if I chose Hugh over him I would disgrace myself and my family and should expect to have several rivals for his time and affection.’

‘You need not heed Burnett’s opinion!’ Elise had spoken dismissively, yet she feared the doctor was right in his forecast of her sister’s prospects. Hugh was a rogue where women were concerned. ‘Shall I ask Alex to visit Hugh and discover if he might be persuaded to propose marriage?’ Elise asked anxiously. ‘Alex is moping since he fell out with his best friend. I know he’s keen to make up with Hugh, so he’d probably appreciate the opportunity to talk to him...’

‘No!’ Beatrice emphasised the single word with a deep frown. ‘Promise me you will not mention any of our conversation, Elise, even to Alex.’

Bea didn’t want Hugh to believe she’d again sent her brother-in-law to sort out personal matters because she lacked the courage to do so herself. If Hugh were ever to know she loved and wanted him, she’d sooner be the one to tell him.

‘You are not seriously considering Hugh’s proposition of
carte
blanche
...are you?’ Elise asked. She could see why her sister might be tempted by such an offer from a handsome and generous man. Bea had every right to be heartily fed up with regular romance when in the past three gentlemen pursuing her as a wife had let her down. But she could see nothing but heartache ahead for Bea if her sister drifted into a liaison with a man as jaded and cynical as Hugh.

‘Of course not,’ Bea said breathily, pushing back a blonde curl from her forehead. She wished she’d sounded more convincing. Objectionable as many would deem the idea, Bea had found herself wondering whether a discreet, informal arrangement with a man she truly loved and desired would be preferable to an arid marriage to suit convention. When younger she had desperately wanted to be a wife and have a family of her own, but always her dream had eluded her. Constant disappointment had eroded the yearning till she no longer knew what she wanted...other than Hugh. If she could not have a wedding ring from him, would it be so bad to accept the gift of his passion instead?

‘Burnett’s just gone.’

The sisters turned in unison as Alex entered the parlour. He scooped up his gurgling son from the sofa, chucking him beneath the chin. ‘I think your father might like to speak to you, Beatrice.’

With a fierce look for Elise that threatened dire consequences should she tell Alex what they’d talked about, Bea quit the room.

‘I don’t blame you one bit, my dear, for turning Burnett down this time. Bumptious fellow!’

Walter’s abrupt exclamation met Bea on entering the room. ‘Sir Colin tried to bully me into persuading you to have him back, you know.’ He sighed deeply. ‘That fellow has changed since he inherited his money...and not for the better...’

‘It seems to be the way of things...’ Bea gave a hollow laugh.

‘He made it plain that your gambling debt would be cleared the moment the marriage contract was signed. I made it plain that I’d like him to clear his own debts and mind his business about yours. He said he would send me a bank draft this afternoon. I’ll believe it when I see it,’ Walter concluded pessimistically.

‘I’m sorry that I’m such a trouble to you, Papa,’ Bea said softly.

‘Oh...don’t take any notice of my huffing and puffing, my dear,’ Walter patted the delicate fingers his daughter had laid on his arm. ‘I didn’t mean what I said earlier about wanting you wed and out of my hair. You’re a good girl, if far too rash at times. Let’s forget about Burnett and that blackguard Toby Kendrick.’

‘You will not sell your pension policy, Papa, will you?’ Bea asked in concern.

Walter gestured wearily. ‘An old man like me needs little money to live on, and one day soon a good man will come along for you and keep you in a far better manner than I can. I know your luck will change for the better.’ Walter gave a final comforting pat to Bea’s hand, then sank down into a chair, lying his head back against the upholstery. ‘Don’t let’s speak of money any longer...I’m sick of hearing about debts and bills.’ He sighed. ‘It will be nice to go home. I feel tired out by all this frantic business in London. Shall we pack up tomorrow, ready to leave at the weekend?’

Bea nodded, watching her father’s eyes flutter shut. She felt a pang of deep affection and regret that they would not be leaving town unburdened but with problems of her making hanging over them. ‘Yes...let’s go home, Papa,’ she murmured, settling a cushion beneath her snoozing father’s drooping head.

She stepped back, gazing at him as he settled into sleep. A fierce determination rose in Bea to cure the ills she’d caused. She would make sure her father enjoyed his twilight years, and the independence that was so important to him, buffered by his modest pension income. He would not sell the policy and live in penury to get Toby Kendrick off their backs! She could not allow it...

Chapter Eighteen

M
aggie Monk nipped behind a large shrub protruding from a railing. Then, from her vantage point, she watched her quarry hurtling down the steps of Viscount Blackthorne’s mansion. Having noted Sir Colin’s rigid bearing and black expression, she felt her spirits lift.

Earlier that afternoon she’d been on her way to the bakery when she’d spotted her daughter’s former fiancé. Ever conscious of their dwindling fortunes, Maggie had been hoping to haggle over a stale pie to share with Stella for their dinner. Burnett might have bought her daughter little gifts but he’d kept his fist tightly closed when it came to helping out with their household bills. Maggie had come to town with a little pot of savings gleaned from her small pension from Sir Donald. However, with Stella wanting every pretty frippery her eyes landed on in shop windows, the money was almost run through.

On spotting Burnett all thought of food had fled. Sir Colin had been striding purposefully along on the other side of the street. His air of urgency had prompted Maggie to follow him, curious to know where he was heading. When she’d seen him charging up the steps of a house on Upper Brook Street she’d easily guessed why Burnett might pay a call there. Boiling with resentment, Maggie had waited for him to reappear. She was glad she had tarried, for she now felt cheered up. If she’d been correct in thinking he’d just proposed again to Beatrice, his demeanour proclaimed him as having been roundly rejected.

It seemed that Miss Dewey now had bigger fish to fry than Sir Colin. Gossip was rife that the spinster must be under Hugh Kendrick’s protection since he’d championed her at the Whitleys’. It stuck in Maggie’s craw that the two eligible bachelors who should have been competing for Stella’s favours were instead under an older woman’s spell.

Before emerging from her hiding place Maggie watched Colin stride across the road and turn the corner. She sent a grim scowl at the house he had quit. Miss Dewey was beautiful but past her prime, and couldn’t match Stella for youthful freshness in Maggie’s opinion. If Stella were hungry for Hugh Kendrick’s protection, Maggie would do her utmost to bring about her wish.

Since Stella’s birth Maggie had had to idolise her daughter from afar, in case suspicions were aroused about their true relationship. Now there was no secret to keep and the floodgates of her maternal affection were wide open. If Stella couldn’t have Hugh, then neither should Beatrice get him.

But all was not yet lost; she still had a hand to play, and had noticed when they’d passed Sir Toby Kendrick on Regent Street that he readily responded to Stella’s coy glance with an eager grin. Hugh and Toby Kendrick loathed one another, and Maggie knew there was always a profit to be had when love or hate skewed the odds. As far as she was concerned there remained a chance to win the game.

* * *

‘I’m intrigued, madam, to know what vital news you have that could not have been conveyed in the note that summoned me here.’

As he looked Maggie Monk over an expression of disdain shaped Toby Kendrick’s features. He had pitied Colin Burnett, having a future shackled to a shameless hussy like Stella Rawlings. Though of course, in common with other red-blooded fellows, he’d jump at a chance to take up the offer in those impish eyes of hers. It was that hope that had drawn Toby here to meet Mrs Monk by Marble Arch at the appointed hour.

Maggie licked her lips. She’d heard rumours that Sir Toby was a profligate on his own account but a tight-fist where others were concerned. She had no real desire for him to take up with Stella for, baronet or no, she feared he’d turn her daughter into a skivvy to get his money’s worth out of her. But so far Hugh Kendrick had ignored Stella. Maggie was praying she could change that by enabling him to spite his older brother by snatching her daughter away from Toby.

‘Come, woman...what is it?’ Toby demanded testily. ‘I’ve not all afternoon to tarry with such as you.’

‘Your brother has been showing an undue interest in my sweet Stella,’ Maggie rattled off. ‘I thought you should know of his pursuit.’

Toby shouted a laugh. ‘What do you expect me to do about it? The chit plays up to every man she meets.’

Maggie resented his scoffing criticism. What he’d said might be true, but she didn’t want her nose rubbed in it.

‘She’s a vivacious beauty, I’ll give you that,’ Maggie said, struggling for levity. ‘But she has her...
preferences
in gentlemen, and appreciates a fellow’s breeding. Now that rogue Sir Colin has done the dirty and left my dear girl to her fate she is keen to meet a fellow of similar status...such as your good self.’

‘Got cold feet, has he?’ Toby purred. It was news to him that the engagement was off, and suddenly the carrot the woman was dangling was looking exceedingly tasty. He guessed that for all the girl’s sauce she was still intact, and taking maidenheads was a sport Toby enjoyed above all else. ‘If you think I’ll wed the chit now she’s been cast off—’

‘Mayhap you will, sir, given time,’ Maggie hastily interrupted. ‘But that brother of yours might come up to scratch for my Stella first. Mr Kendrick is smitten, and will naturally want to have children for that fortune of his...’

‘He might get her increasing but he won’t marry her,’ Toby chortled. ‘He’s produced a boy already and left it abroad.’

Toby suddenly realised how very stupid and indiscreet he’d been. His lust for Stella had overridden his sense and he’d risked losing his valuable hold over Hugh. If his brother found out he’d broadcast his secret he’d cut off his money...maybe knock him senseless into the bargain. He groaned inwardly on noticing the gleam in Maggie Monk’s eyes as she digested this confidential information.

‘A bastard, has he?’ Maggie grunted a coarse laugh, turning away satisfied. She’d got far more than she’d bargained for and might no longer need to manipulate Toby after all. She left him gawping after her and hurried away, muttering gleefully, ‘Well, well...I wonder if the spinster knows about
that
...’

* * *

Bea could not risk being spotted in a clandestine tryst with Hugh. She had reasoned that a rendezvous in the open, as though they had bumped into one another by chance, would be the only option if she were to avoid heaping more embarrassment on her family.

Following her talk with her father earlier, Bea had acted before her courage fled, despatching a note to request that Hugh meet her at Oxford Street in the environs of Meredew’s haberdashery. Far too impetuous, her father had called her, just a few hours ago, and indeed she was, she realised, frowning at her pale reflection in a shop window. She feigned an interest in a feathered hat behind the glass, not wanting to appear to be aimlessly dawdling.

Glancing at the clock inside the premises, Bea noticed that the appointed hour was nearly upon her. She took a deep calming breath as her heartbeat accelerated, sending blood to pound deafeningly in her ears. Of course her note might have gone unheeded: Hugh might either be out of town or otherwise engaged and unable to respond to her summons.

Unsure whether that possibility gave greater relief than disappointment, she reminded herself that she didn’t want it all to be a squandered effort.

The street scene behind her was reflected in the pane and she began scouring the crowds. She longed to see Hugh approaching, yet confusingly also dreaded a first sight of his powerful presence. What would she say? What would
he
say? Would he laugh in that infuriating way of his that mingled lust and mockery? She feared he might unwittingly shrivel her determination to bare her soul and admit that she wanted him in the same way he desired her. If he were unable to say he loved her but promised instead his affection and respect it would surely be enough...

‘Bea!’

A familiar voice startled Bea from her tortured thoughts. At any other time she would have been delighted to see Fiona Chapman flying towards her on Oxford Street, but a rather strained smile was all she could manage as her friend closed the gap between them.