To Ruin a Rake (7 page)

Closing her eyes, Harriett tried not to think about what had followed, but it was impossible with his scent yelling in her nostrils: brandy, tobacco, leather, and something else she couldn’t put a finger on, something uniquely
him
. He’d staggered into her at the cemetery, resulting in the shock of her life. For just a moment as her hands had braced against his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath, she’d looked into his pain-filled eyes...and had wanted to embrace him. Worse, she’d wanted him to return her embrace, to fold her in his arms and tell her she wasn’t al—

“Did you not hear me?” he barked, jolting her back to the present.

She hadn’t. But she wasn’t about to let him know it. “You will release me at once,” she said in her sternest manner, the one she reserved for very naughty children.

A corner of his mouth lifted as he removed his hands from the wall beside her and straightened. “The years have not mellowed you one whit, have they?”

“Nor have they made
you
any more of a gentleman,” she retorted before thinking better of it.

“So speaks a lady dressed as a drudge.”

She raised her chin. “The clothes do not make the person, Your Grace. I could be wearing a grocer’s sack and still remain a lady, whereas no matter how much finery you don, you will remain an uncouth pig.”

The look in his honey-brown eyes made her uneasy as he swayed and again leaned toward her. “I’m quite convinced
you
would remain every inch a ‘lady’ even without the grocer’s sack.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Or am I wrong, I wonder?”

His implication set fire to her already heated cheeks. Without thinking, she licked her suddenly dry lips. As she did so, something lit in the depths of his leonine eyes, something that caused her pulse to whoosh in her ears, her head to become light, and her body to become leaden. Instinct screamed at her to bolt, but she remained rooted to the floor, mesmerized as he drew closer still.

Stopping mere inches from her, his lips parted in another mocking smile. “I’ve often wondered what William saw in you.” He cocked his head to one side. “Now I begin to understand, I think. Unlike me, my brother always did as he was told. Whereas I favored defiance, he actually seemed to enjoy submission. He lacked the courage to challenge authority.
You
, however, appear to have an overabundance of spine. I’ve often heard it said that opposites attract. You must have drawn him like a lodestone.”

His drawling tone set her teeth on edge and made her palms itch. She stood her ground, refusing to show the brute any weakness. The breath she drew was shaky at best. “You, sir, are incapable of even the barest modicum of decency. And you understand
nothing
. Now, you will remove yourself at once and wait for me below,” she commanded, raising her arm to point the way back for him since, given the strong scent of brandy rising from his person, he probably didn’t know which way was up.

He did not move. “William might have bowed to your every whim, madam, but I certainly shall not. You will take me to see Mr. Dun. Now.”

The urge to slap him drained away along with all the blood in her head. “I will do no such thing. Because he is not here,” she added quickly. “He has already gone home.”

“Then you will provide me with his address so that I may call upon him at his residence,” he said with a slow, cheerless smile.

She squirmed. “I do not know his address.”

“Then take me to someone who does.”

“I—I don’t think—”

“My lady!” a frantic voice called from the other end of the hall. It was Nurse Hayes. “Oh,” said Hayes, taking in the scene. A flush colored her cheeks. “I didn’t realize you were with...”

Harriett watched as Manchester fixed the intruder with hard eyes. “Lady Harriett was just going to escort me to Mr. Dun’s office.”

“Mr. Dun?” repeated Hayes, blinking. “But downstairs you said you wished to see the Assistant Administrator, did you not?”

He looked at the woman as though she was an idiot. “So I did. I wish to see Mr. Dun. Now.”

“But, Your Grace, there
is
no Mr. Dun,” stressed Hayes. “I’ve already told you there is no one here by that name.”

With a sinking heart, Harriett watched as Hayes—who’d remained oblivious to her small, frantic signals—pointed a trembling finger at her and spoke the dreaded words.

“Lady
Harriett
is the Assistant Administrator.”

Damn.
Harriett’s heart went right down into her shoes as Manchester froze. Why, oh
why
couldn’t Nurse Hayes have simply turned around and left them to argue in private?

Her enemy remained stock still for several long seconds, save for a single muscle that leaped in his jaw. His voice was quiet, dangerously quiet, when he again spoke to Hayes. “Are you telling me that
this
woman” —he jabbed a finger at her— “has been running this facility?”

“Why, yes, Your Grace,” said Hayes, beaming in apparent relief over the fact that he at last understood. “And a right fine job she does of it, too.”

“I didn’t ask for a review of her performance,” he snapped. Harriett held her breath as he started to turn back toward her, but then he stopped and addressed the nurse once more. “How long?”

Hayes blinked. “Begging your pardon, my lord?”

“How
long
has she been serving in such a capacity?” he reiterated, enunciating each word with exaggerated slowness.

“Since before His Grace...” Hayes trailed off awkwardly. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace, I meant no offen—”

“You may go,” he cut in. When she didn’t move, he raised his voice. “I said you may
go.
”

Turning on her heel, Hayes did as he bade.

The door slammed behind the woman, and Harriett shrank inside as Manchester again faced her.

He spoke in a low voice that, for all its softness, was filled with unmitigated fury. “Are you telling me that for the past two years I have been corresponding through my solicitor with you and
not
Mr. Dun?”

She squared her shoulders. Might as well own to it. “No, Your Grace. You have not. Because
I
am Mr. Dun.” She waited, but he said nothing. “A month had passed since William’s death and still you had not appeared. After two months, I knew you wouldn’t, so I—”

“Took it upon yourself to assume his place?” His amber eyes bored into her.

“Yes, actually.” Pride steadied her, gave her strength. “And you ought to know that I did so with the blessing of the other founding governors.
All
of them. I volunteered my services, and they accepted with gratitude.”

“You expect me to believe they would let a
woman
have control of this place?”

The carefully banked coals of her temper flared. “William and I drew the plans for this place together
.
I helped him design it. I’ve been a part of it since the very first stone was laid. In fact, it was my own hand that laid it, alongside his. William taught me everything about how to manage this hospital, and I have done well in his stead—as any of the other governors can and will tell you, should you care to ask.”

“The only thing I care to ask is why I was never informed that my brother’s fiancée had seized power in his absence.”

“Probably because it wasn’t a matter of
power
,” she countered. “It was a matter of capability and interest. Had you shown even the slightest shred of either, I and the others would have welcomed your input. But you never gave a damn about this place. You don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself. I assumed the name of the Honorable Mr. Dun whenever communication with you was necessary because I
knew
if you discovered my presence here, you would cause problems. So did the others, which is why they helped conceal it from you.”

“You lying little—”

Fear of him vanished. “I did it to preserve William’s legacy,” she said with righteous indignation. “I certainly wasn’t about to allow you to destroy it.”

“
Allow
me?” he said, laughing humorlessly. He leaned in again, towering over her. “Do you think you can refuse me my place here? I am my brother’s heir—in
every
respect, including his part in the governorship of this hospital.”

“I have never challenged your right to be here. What I—”

“Good, because here I am, and here I shall remain,” he barked. “
You
, however, will get yourself home to your father where you belong. Running a place like this is the purview of logic-minded men, not women with their bleeding hearts and open purses—
my
open purse, as I recall,” he amended, jerking an angry thumb at his chest.

Rage pounded through her. All the time she had spent nursing the sick herself when they were short-handed because they couldn’t afford to hire more help. All the long hours she’d spent poring over figures to make the funds stretch to feed and clothe those in their keep. He
could
have helped, had he not been such an uncaring, pathetic, self-serving bastard. It was only with the greatest effort that she refrained from hitting him.

Ignoring the fire in his eyes, she loaded her voice with scorn. “If you ever cared to look at the ledgers, which you have not in the two years I’ve been managing this facility, you’d know better than to utter such complete rubbish. And as to my scurrying back to ‘my place,’ the other governors won’t allow you to remove me. They know my worth even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

His angular face hardened into a cold mask. “We shall see about that.”

“So we shall,” she replied, shaking with barely repressed rage. She wanted to claw his eyes out and send him slinking back home with his tail tucked between his legs! “Send in your auditors. Send in anyone you bloody well please. You’ll not find fault with my work.”

“No auditors. I won’t send in anyone that might be swayed by your guile,
Lady
Harriett. Oh, no. I intend to review your performance record myself. Meticulously.”

Her dismay must have been obvious, because now he smiled. It was a patronizing smile that again made her palms itch.

“I may be Saint William’s wastrel brother,” he continued, “but that doesn’t mean I’m an ignorant fool. I received the same education as he. I might not have had the desire to run this place, but I am perfectly—what was the word you used? Oh, yes—
capable
of it.”

She had no choice but to accept his direction—if he followed through on the threat. Judging by the smell of him, she doubted he would even remember this conversation tomorrow morning. She inclined her head. “I look forward to you taking your proper place here, Your Grace. Believe me, any help you can provide will be a blessed relief. Though managing the Hospital has thus far been a labor of love on my part, I cannot continue to devote so much of my time to it indefinitely.”

They locked gazes, neither willing to give way to the other.

“Good,” he said softly. “You may expect to see me again before the week is out. First, however, I believe I shall pay a visit to Mr. Blume.” He turned to go.

Her heart leaped into her throat, and before she knew what she was doing, she’d grabbed him by the arm. “It is not his fault! Mr. Blume was directed to mislead you by the other governors!”

Stopping, he looked down to where her hand rested on his sleeve.

She jerked it back and rubbed it on her apron to dispel the tingling sensation in her fingers. Her breath caught as she realized he’d marked the telltale motion.

“Mr. Blume is no business of yours,” he bit out, his eyes narrowing as they again centered on her face. “He was my brother’s solicitor—which makes him
mine
—and he lied to me. I will deal with him as I see fit. I believe the magistrate will have a thing or two to say about his deceitful practices. He’ll be lucky if they only send him to prison.”

“He was
not
William’s solicitor!” she shouted, again heedless of the closed doors lining the hall. All she could think of was how kind Mr. Blume had been to her and how he would be ruined if he was accused of such a crime regardless of whether he was later proven innocent.

Manchester stopped. “I see. Then pray tell me, what
is
Mr. Blume?”

“He is the Hospital’s solicitor, retained by its governors—including your brother—to attend to its business, and he has done an outstanding job. He is a good man, and he does not deserve to be abused.”

“I meant what is he to
you
, Lady Harriett.”

She blinked in surprise. “I will not deny he is my friend,” she said, hating that she sounded so awkward. “He has helped me through many hardships these past two years.”

A cynical brow lifted in response. “A friend? Is that all?”

Suddenly, she understood. Her cheeks heated.
The unmitigated gall of the man!
“He was William’s friend, as well,” she countered, anger winning over embarrassment. “But if you require further explanation, then let me say also that I have had the great pleasure of befriending his lady wife and, indeed, of seeing his youngest child born.” She stood her tallest, which put her at eye-level with his lips. “
And
the honor of being named her godmother!”

Those lips quirked. “God, you really are a Puritan, aren’t you? Proper and starched, just like William—only far braver.”