The Artist and the Rake

by Callie Hutton

  * * *

  Marcus studied Lizbeth as they rode away from the police station. Her face was flushed and there was definite fury coming from her eyes. She looked beautiful, like Erinyes, the Goddesses of Vengeance.

  He wanted to pull her to him to take all that fury and turn it into passion.

  For him.

  He wanted to see the desire in her eyes as he wrapped her in his arms and took her mouth in a searing kiss. To feel her response, the innocent reaction he knew she would have, despite her experience in the brothel. She was a novice, and he would love to be the man who showed her how wonderful it could be between a man and woman when there was genuine desire and caring between them.

  She had no doubt been left with a feeling that it was all painful and dirty. He wanted to erase that from her mind. He would let her know that she was beautiful, desirable, and what happened to her made no difference to him because it could not change who she was.

  He surprised himself with those thoughts. It sounded close to something he had always banished from his mind before the idea settled in. Since he’d met Lizbeth, he found himself wandering in the direction he’d eschewed for years.

  Due to the time of day, the Pump Room was crowded. In some ways good since they would most likely go unnoticed, and bad because Marcus felt as though he wanted to lash out at someone. However, the someone he wanted to hit was still back at the police station.

  He took Lizbeth’s arm and they began to walk around the outside of the Roman Baths, in the area in front of the Bath Abbey. “Are you warm enough?”

  “Yes. My anger is so strong that it is heating up my blood quite nicely, actually,” Lizbeth said.

  “Let’s take the seats over there.” Marcus pointed to an unoccupied bench in a quiet section of the spacious area surrounding the Abbey.

  She turned toward him once they sat. “Will you please enlighten me as to what just happened back there? Why do I feel as though they were looking for something to charge me with?”

  Marcus ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been giving it some thought. Although I’ve never sat through a police interview before, I fail to see the benefit of how they conducted themselves. It was almost as if they wanted to antagonize you.”

  “Why? I’m confused.”

  “I think one of two things. Either they don’t want us involved in their investigation, or they are hiding something.”

  “If their intention was to keep us away from the matter, they made a major mistake because their attitude only makes me want to delve into it more. If they aren’t going to do anything about what happened to me, then I will.”

  “Wait a minute.” Marcus took her hands in his. “This is not a game, Lizbeth, you can’t just blithely involve yourself in this. There are dangerous people involved. From the research I’ve done it’s a tight group who do not want their nice little money-maker disrupted. And if the police—at least the two we met with—are not anxious to close it down, for whatever reason, it becomes a very dangerous situation. I almost think that they were warning us off.”

  “Why?”

  He looked off into the distance. “I’m not sure. As I said it could be one of two reasons.”

  “I will not sit still like a well-behaved child with my head down and my hands folded in my lap and obey the police. These horrible people took something very precious from me. And I’m not referring to my virginity—which does bother me—but more so my trust in people.” She shook her head and hugged her middle. “I am going to pursue this even if it kills me.”

  “Don’t say that!” Marcus shouted. He took in a deep breath. It would be best if he stayed calm. “If you agree to abide by my rules, I will help you. If I can’t get my bill passed, then at the very least I bring these people down.”

  Lizbeth glanced at him sideways. “What sort of abiding by your rules are you alluding to?”

  “The only thing I will ask of you is to not put yourself in harm’s way. And you will not do anything without telling me first.”

  Lizbeth nodded. “That sounds fair enough. Along those lines, I will tell you that my next step is to break into Mrs. O’Leary’s boarding house and steal back my belongings. Especially my paintings.” She had the nerve to smile at him as if it was all a game.

  Marcus dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

  Chapter 9

  The tinkling of the bell over the door of Once Upon a Book, the bookstore Addie once owned, drew Lizbeth’s attention from the book she was reading. Her eyes grew wide and she jumped up and ran to the front of the store. “Pamela!”

  She hadn’t seen her in the two weeks since Pamela had seen Lizbeth and Marcus off on the train to Bath. “I thought you moved in with your brother in London?”

  Pamela hugged Lizbeth, then joined their arms together and walked her to the back of the store. “I will t-tell you all about i-it. D-does the n-new owner still k-k-keep tea back here?”

  “Yes, and he is very generous about sharing.”

  They entered the small area behind the store, and Lizbeth rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I could use a cup of tea right now. It is such a dreadful day.” It was a rainy, cold day and Lizbeth had served only a couple of customers the entire time she’d been there. She’d been working at the bookstore for a short time, just two and a half days a week, but she loved being employed once again and having money. She still had the uncomfortable feeling that Addie was furtively paying her wages, although when confronted, the woman denied it.

  Lizbeth prepared the tea for them. She loved the spirit lamp attached to the tea kettle that kept the water boiling hot all day. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

  Pamela nodded. “I was p-pleased to learn f-from Addie that y-you are working h-here. We always loved this st-store and it’s wonderful to have one of our fr-friends working here again.”

  Lizbeth smiled at Pamela, to whom she owed so much. “I am honored to be considered one of your friends.”

  They hugged again and then sat down for tea. “So, tell me why you decided to stay in London, but are here now.” Lizbeth poured the tea and fixed her own the way she liked it. Pamela passed on the sugar and cream.

  Pamela took a sip of tea, then laughed. “I h-had to chase d-down Nick and insist he p-propose to me.”

  Lizbeth took a biscuit from the plate and said, “This is a story I have to hear.”

  “It’s quite s-simple, really. I love h-him and he l-loves me. My brother st-stepped in and attempted to r-ruin it all, but once I f-found out what he’d d-done, I packed my b-bags and left for B-Bath.” She held up her hand with a beautiful engagement ring on her finger. “And I was c-correct.” She grinned. “He loves m-me.”

  Lizbeth admired the stunning diamond ring. Not too big to be gaudy, the main diamond was surrounded by smaller ruby stones and looked lovely on Pamela’s hand. “I’m so happy for you. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

  They chatted about the wedding, which Pamela told her Addie had insisted holding at Berkshire Townhouse. “I’m staying at N-nick’s house, b-but it is so funny. He has a housekeeper who is a-acting as my chaperone. She won’t l-let Nick near my b-bedroom for any r-reason and insists that the d-doors to all r-rooms we are in remain o-open.”

  Lizbeth laughed out loud. “That is funny. But why does he put up with it? After all, she is an employee.”

  “One th-thing I’ve d-discovered about Nick is his soft h-heart. Although the world sees a d-different man, when it comes to p-people he cares about, he is quite indulgent.”

  “I am very happy that Addie offered to host the wedding breakfast, but with her so close to childbirth, I’m surprised Grayson allowed it.” Lizbeth had witnessed the man’s protectiveness when it came to his five-year-old son, Michael who was deaf, and his wife.

  “H-he insisted she orchestrate t-the entire thing f-from the sofa in the d-drawing room. Since her m-mother is now there to h-help when the b-baby comes, I imagine y-you and she will be doing
most of the w-work.”

  Lizbeth had met Mrs. Mallory, Addie’s mother, the day before when she’d arrived from London. Her husband had planned to join her in another week. He had businesses to deal with, she said.

  In addition to his seat in the House of Commons Marcus worked with his father in their businesses, also, but since he made the trip to Addie’s house, he’d been overseeing some of their interests in Bath. It always confused her that he had a reputation as a rake. She’d seen none of it since they’d met. Although, Addie did mention that he’d mellowed somewhat the last couple of years.

  “That is fine with me. I owe Addie so much for taking me in. She is truly a wonderful friend.” Lizbeth used her napkin to pat her eyes. “Both of you are wonderful.”

  Pamela patted her hand. “You d-deserve good fr-friends and wait until you meet L-Lottie. She will love you, t-too. Her husband, C-carter Westbrooke, is so b-besotted with her it’s almost c-comical.”

  Lizbeth sighed at all the marital happiness among this group of ladies. “It sounds like you have all defied the reason you came from London to Bath and are now happily settled—or about to be in your case.”

  Pamela nodded. “Yes. W-we still consider ourselves The M-merry Misfits of B-bath, but I guess we aren’t exactly m-misfits anymore.”

  Lizbeth picked at her napkin. “Yes. Well, I certainly am.” She looked up. “I have no use for a man, and I doubt I will ever feel differently.”

  She barely got those words out when a vision of Marcus, with this handsome face, little-boy smile, and strong arms wrapped around her popped up.

  She wrestled with herself but finally gave in to her curiosity. Pamela was a good friend and she could count on her to not repeat their conversation. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of c-course.”

  “I don’t want you to make much of this, because I am merely curious, but I have heard that Mr. Mallory had quite a reputation as a rake.”

  If Pamela thought her question odd, she didn’t show it. “Yes. He d-does. Or rather, I sh-should say he d-did.”

  “I see.” She traced a circle on the table with her fingertip. “A lot of mistresses and affairs?”

  Pamela laughed. “As a young w-woman of the ton I was not p-privy to his affaires de c-coeur but I c-can tell you t-there were rumors. However, he was s-still stalked by the m-marriage minded mamas. He’s always b-been quite p-popular, but as far as a r-rake? If he was at one t-time I haven’t h-heard much f-for a while. But then I’ve been h-hidden in Bath for a f-few years.”

  That hadn’t helped at all because Lizbeth had discovered the same thing. She hadn’t seen evidence of a rake, just a handsome, charming, helpful man.

  But still a man.

  Pamela laid down her napkin alongside her plate and stood. “But n-now I must be g-going.” She drew a piece of paper from her reticule. “Addie has g-given me a list, t-too.” She laughed as she waved the paper around.

  They walked together to the door and hugged as Pamela left. Still smiling from their visit, Lizbeth cleaned up the tea things and continued with her book.

  It was nearing dinner time when Lizbeth returned to Berkshire Townhouse after closing the bookstore. She took to her room briefly to freshen up and then joined the family in the drawing room.

  Grayson was playing some sort of finger game with his son while Addie looked on with an indulgent mama smile. Mrs. Mallory was deep in conversation with Marcus, who looked immensely relieved when Lizbeth walked into the room.

  “Excuse me,” he said to his mother, then hopped up and strode to Lizbeth and gave her a slight bow. “Good evening. How is the bookstore faring?”

  “Quite well, actually. I spent most of the day reading.”

  His warm smile released butterflies in her stomach. Was that good or bad? “Ah, a fine job that is. Would you care for a sherry?”

  “Yes, please.” Lizbeth followed him over to the sideboard where he poured her a sherry and refilled his brandy glass.

  “Miss Davenport, please join me.” Mother waved from her seat across the room. Apparently hearing his groan, Lizbeth said, “Now, now. One must be polite to one’s mother.”

  They no sooner settled themselves than Penrose entered the drawing room, giving his servant’s bow to the group. Lizbeth swallowed her smile at Marcus’s joy at avoiding a conversation with his mother. Lizbeth had felt Mrs. Mallory’s interest in her since the woman arrived to help with Addie’s baby.

  Apparently, no one had told her about Lizbeth’s background. It was highly unlikely that she would want a former prostitute for her son. The thought depressed her, and she refused to examine why.

  * * *

  All the female drama over the wedding that Marcus had witnessed came to an end as Nick and Pamela’s wedding day arrived. Since Lizbeth was busy with the bookstore and helping with the wedding, he’d taken on the task of hiring someone to watch the O’Leary house while he went over his mountain of notes he’d gathered while doing research for his bill.

  The wedding ceremony itself held his interest much more than any other he’d attended. For years he had avoided as many weddings as he could. In fact, the last one he’d been present at had been his sister’s wedding the prior year. This one had been pleasant. The love on Nick’s and Pamela’s faces brought him to a place he’d never been before.

  Wanting. Desiring. Hoping?

  He’d been a bit nervous with Mother about, always watching him and Lizbeth with speculation in her eyes. Having her mind occupied with marriage and babies, and then spending time with Lizbeth while they put the wedding together, he knew it would only be a matter of time before he felt her delicate hand on his back, pushing him toward the vicar.

  He’d dodged Mother’s questions about Lizbeth as much as he could, but to no avail. She’d already taken a liking to Lizbeth, which was understandable given how much time they’d spent together, living in the same house, and doing wedding chores together. He doubted anyone told his mother about Lizbeth’s ordeal, but since he knew his mother to be of the compassionate sort, she would no doubt push that away as not important.

  Now she’d cornered Lizbeth as the wedding breakfast began. They oftentimes glanced in his direction and giggled as only women involved in a conspiracy were wont to do. Instead of looking annoyed once he was able to rescue her from his mother, Lizbeth grinned.

  His Lizbeth was truly a remarkable woman.

  His Lizbeth?

  Was that where he was with her? No doubt she would laugh herself silly or punch him in the face if he let her know his thoughts. He had no reason to believe she was any more accepting of a man’s attentions than she’d been the night they rescued her.

  She was dressed today in a deep blue silk gown that he recognized as one of Addie’s from her disastrous Seasons in London. Since Lizbeth was a bit slimmer than Addie it must have been altered because it fit her perfect figure like a glove, her curves outlined for all to see.

  Quite annoying, that.

  Once they were seated for the breakfast, he was piqued to find Lord Benson next to Lizbeth. He, on the other hand was stuck with Pamela’s sister-in-law, Lady Mulgrave as a partner. The woman was one of the most condescending, prissy women he’d ever known. She spent the entire time at the wedding breakfast looking terrified, as if she might accidentally speak to someone beneath her.

  He made the best of it by conversing with the woman on his other side, Mrs. Fletcher, Nick’s housekeeper, and from what Lizbeth had told him, also the dragon guardian of young ladies’ virtue. Lizbeth laughed when she told him how Mrs. Fletcher had banned Nick from Pamela’s bedroom, and he actually abided by her rules.

  When Smith had first contacted him, Marcus had expected to meet a hard-core near-criminal owner of The Lion’s Den, a well-known gambling club in Bath. He knew the man’s background as a mudlark and cutter, raised up on the streets of London.

  What he’d soon learned however, was the man was hard, but fair, and so besotted with his new wife that it could
almost open itself up to ridicule. Except no one ridiculed Mr. Nicholas Smith.

  Once the meal had ended, Marcus bowed to Mrs. Fletcher and Lady Mulgrave and went in search of Lizbeth. When he found her across the room she was backing up from Benson, shaking her head. She ended up against the wall with Benson’s hand on the wall, next to her head, leaning in.

  Marcus’s blood pumped throughout his body, his pounding heartbeat wiping out all other sound, his eyes focused solely on the man who was harassing Lizbeth.

  Marcus placed his hand on Benson’s shoulder and pulled him back. “It would be nice to allow the young lady room to breathe, Benson.”

  Lizbeth took a deep breath and offered him a shaky smile. He then moved alongside her and placed his arm around her waist. A completely possessive move, but it was apparent Benson was annoying her and Marcus wanted to make sure the man understood that whatever there was or was not between him and Lizbeth, he would protect her from unwanted attention.

  “How have you been, Benson, haven’t seen you for a while.” Marcus could feel Lizbeth’s shivers where his hand rested.

  The man stepped back, his lips forming a strained smile. “I’m well, thank you. I don’t get to Bath very often, but since Lady Pamela and I are old friends I didn’t want to miss her wedding.”

  “Is that right?” Marcus turned to Lizbeth in a dismissive move. “I understand there will be music as soon as Nick and Pamela leave. I would be honored if you save me a waltz.”

  “Of course,” she said, her eyes darting toward Benson.

  “And me, as well, Miss Davenport.” Benson’s leer made Marcus’s fist clench. It was his own stupid fault, after all. He shouldn’t have mentioned the dancing or a waltz in front of Benson.

  Before Lizbeth could respond, Berkshire wandered in their direction and began a conversation with Benson, giving Marcus the excuse he needed to have some time with Lizbeth. “Before the music begins, may we take a stroll around the room? There is a matter I would like to discuss with you.” Marcus whisked her away and they began to walk the perimeter of the room.