Ruined

by Ann Barker

  ‘But I cannot think of anything that I would rather be doing than conversing with you – especially when your escort has so ungallantly deserted you.’ Mr Hinder cleared his throat, but beyond offering him a curt nod, Weary paid him no attention.

  His reference to Raff’s desertion made Jessie look in the earl’s direction. At that moment, he was whispering something in the ear of one of the three women, and making her laugh in what Jessie felt was quite an unnecessarily excessive manner.

  She looked back at the baronet and smiled. ‘Indeed, he is not very gallant,’ she answered.

  Weary’s smile widened. He had, Jessie noticed, one or two discoloured teeth. ‘I am thinking that it would serve him right if he were to come back and find that you were dancing with … somebody else.’ He put out his hand.

  Jessie glanced again at Raff. He was still talking to his friends, but he was now looking in the direction of the box. She stood up. ‘You are very right,’ she said. ‘Let us go.’

  She regretted it almost as soon as she had put her hand in his for his grip was hot and rather damp, and the expression in his eyes, glittering through the slits of his mask, made her feel much more lightly clad than she knew was the case. However, the deed was done, and she did have the satisfaction of seeing that Raff was no longer paying any attention to his conversation, but was watching her instead and looking rather annoyed.

  Sir Wallace laughed softly. ‘Well, my pretty, if you wanted to make him jealous, then you’ve succeeded, I think.’

  Jessie did not comment upon this. She knew that Raff was not jealous, for there could not be jealousy when there was no love. He was simply irritated that his conversation with his lady friends had been interrupted. Instead, she said, ‘Why are you so pleased at annoying him? I thought that you were friends.’

  He laughed unpleasantly. ‘Friends? In society one tolerates certain people, but friends with the Fallen Angel? Good God, no. By the way, where’s that clergyman fiancé of yours?’

  ‘He is in the country, about his duties.’

  ‘Long may he stay there, I say.’

  His mention of Henry gave her pause, and she suddenly wondered what she was doing agreeing to dance with a man whom she did not like, just because she wanted to give Raff something to think about. But it was too late to go back, for by now, they were taking their places on the floor, and soon the dance began. Although Jessie usually enjoyed dancing, treading a measure with Sir Wallace gave her no pleasure. His grip was too tight, he touched her whenever he could, whether or not the movements of the dance called for it, and some of his flirtatious remarks were much warmer than she liked. She was very glad when the dance ended, but somewhat alarmed when he appeared to want to lead her away from the floor in the opposite direction to her box. She had no doubt that his actions were quite deliberate. She did not know where the Dark Walk was to be found, but she very much doubted whether Sir Wallace was similarly ignorant. It seemed to her to be just the sort of place where he would want to take her. Most fortunately, however, a group of noisy bucks pushed past them, breaking Sir Wallace’s grip, and without any hesitation, she hurried off towards their box, not wasting any time looking to see if she was being pursued.

  In the meantime, Raff, having said farewell to his acquaintances, was watching with some annoyance the spectacle of Jessie dancing with Sir Wallace Weary. It did not improve his temper to remember that it was through him that Jessie had actually met the baronet. Unlike Raff, Weary had absolutely no scruples about whom he despoiled. In pursuit of his own pleasures, there were very few lengths to which he would not go. To watch Jessie partnering him was, in Raff’s opinion, rather like observing a gazelle at the mercy of a slavering wolf. This evening of pleasure had taken a turn that Raff really did not care for.

  He was anxious to be on hand at the end of the dance, so that Weary might not take her off somewhere else; but before he could find a pillar to lounge against, he became conscious of a presence at his elbow. Turning, he saw the woman in crimson silk who had addressed him earlier.

  ‘Raff,’ she said, her tone much more hesitant than when she had addressed him before in the box.

  ‘Katie?’ answered Raff, looking at her quizzically. ‘All on your own?’

  When Raff had met Katie Duncomb, she had been the mistress of a youthful acquaintance of his. Recently, the young man’s engagement had been announced, and Raff wondered how this had affected her.

  ‘Yes, all on my own,’ she acknowledged ruefully. ‘In fact, Brook’s thrown me out.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Today. Well, it was really his father. He said Brook had cost him enough, and that now he was to be married, he would only continue to pay his allowance if he let me go, so guess what?’ Her tone was airy, but Raff could see the desperation in her eyes.

  ‘I trust he was suitably generous with his parting gift,’ Raff responded.

  ‘Sad how trust can so often be misplaced,’ she responded. Again, she attempted an airy tone, without much success.

  ‘Do you have somewhere to go?’ he asked her quietly.

  She shrugged. ‘I was hoping to meet someone tonight, but I’ve had no success. You’re obviously spoken for.’

  He took out his purse and extracted several coins. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘this should tide you over.’

  ‘Bless you, Raff,’ she replied. ‘Does that ladybird of yours know how lucky she is?’

  ‘I doubt it,’ he answered as she melted away. At the same moment, he looked up to see Jessie standing watching him from about six feet away.

  He strolled across to her side, took her hand and tucked it in his arm. With one part of her mind, Jessie noticed that his grip was very different to that of Sir Wallace, cool and firm, rather than tight. With the other, she was thinking about the scene that she had just witnessed, in which Raff had given money to the woman who had made eyes at him earlier. Was this for services rendered, or in anticipation of pleasures to come?

  ‘Let go of me,’ she said angrily, attempting to pull away from him.

  ‘Why so violent?’ he asked her.

  ‘I wish to return to Henrietta,’ she said, still pulling, but with no avail, for he was holding her hand firmly, whilst keeping it tucked within his arm.

  ‘Presently,’ he replied. ‘First of all, you and I are going to have a little talk.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jessie looked up at him. ‘A talk?’ she said, uncertainly.

  ‘If you please,’ he said with exaggerated courtesy. She looked into his eyes and suddenly became aware that he was furiously angry. She remembered how incensed he had looked when she had got up from the box to go with Sir Wallace. She toyed briefly with the idea of trying to pull away from him, but she had no desire to indulge in an unseemly struggle in public. Besides, as she looked round at those present she very much doubted if anyone would take any notice. They were all bent upon their own amusement, and a few were engaged in half-hearted struggles of their own. She had no desire to add to their number.

  ‘Very wise,’ Raff murmured, as if he could read her mind. ‘No one would believe that you really wanted to get away from me, you know.’

  She took a moment or two to take this in. ‘Your conceit knows no bounds,’ she exclaimed incredulously. ‘Do you really think that you are irresistible to women?’

  ‘My opinion has nothing to do with it,’ he replied. ‘What we are talking about is the judgement of others.’

  ‘Meaning those women of the town with whom you were consorting, I suppose,’ she said, tossing her head.

  ‘Those among others.’ He stopped and turned to face her. She looked around and saw that they had left the crowds behind and were now in a dark, tree-lined avenue. ‘Now, you’ll tell me what the deuce you were doing wandering off with Weary,’ he said, his easy, good-humoured tone completely gone.

  ‘I see no reason why I should,’ Jessie replied, straightening her shoulders.

  ‘You’ll tell me because you’re my guest and und
er my protection this evening,’ he replied.

  ‘When it suits you,’ she added.

  ‘And what the devil is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Only that your idea of protection is to paw me at will, then go off entertaining yourself with other rakes and their women.’

  ‘For your information, they are acquaintances of mine.’ Jessie laughed derisively. He caught hold of her by the arms and shook her. ‘I could see them coming towards our box, and I wanted to avoid another scene like the one that had just taken place. I couldn’t depend on you or the other two to refrain from blurting out each other’s names in public.’

  ‘Oh, very noble of you,’ said Jessie sarcastically. ‘Perhaps I should point out to you that if you were not acquainted with these women of the town, then such problems would not occur.’

  ‘Were I not acquainted with them, I doubt whether Henrietta would have invited me to Vauxhall. Perhaps I should point out to you that it is not currently my conduct that is in question but yours.’

  ‘Oh, is it? Then tell me what exactly I was supposed to do when Weary came wandering over to the box, and Henrietta greeted him like a long lost relation.’

  He closed his eyes briefly. ‘I might have guessed,’ he sighed. ‘If that woman has even a modicum of sense, I have yet to discover it.’

  ‘At least her intentions are good,’ she flashed.

  ‘No doubt. Weary’s, however, are anything but.’

  ‘Which is why you should have been there,’ she said in an exasperated tone.

  ‘If I left the box to fend them off, then you only have yourself to blame. You forbade me from fending them off in another way.’

  ‘What other way?’ she asked, frankly puzzled.

  ‘By demonstrating that I was already occupied.’

  Jessie coloured, but said firmly, ‘I will not be blamed for this. I am not the libertine here.’

  ‘I am not the only libertine,’ he reminded her. ‘I seem to recall that Weary’s intentions did not trouble you when you were making cow’s eyes at him.’

  ‘I was doing no such thing. I think he is a perfectly dreadful man. But then, you must know what manner of man he is. You’re obviously two of a kind.’

  ‘Don’t blame me,’ he replied. ‘It was you who wanted to come into my milieu.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ she said, struggling against his grip. ‘I only wanted to go out for the evening with a party of friends. I never had any idea of involving myself with your decadent way of life. I certainly had no desire to watch you purchasing services from a woman of the streets.’

  ‘Purchasing services?’ he echoed, frowning.

  ‘Raff, I saw you,’ she responded in an exasperated tone. ‘You gave her money. What else am I supposed to think?’

  ‘Think what you please,’ he answered. ‘You obviously will anyway.’

  ‘Your arrogance knows no bounds,’ she declared scornfully. ‘Take me back at once. When I think that you’ve just touched me after touching those … those women, it makes me want to be sick.’

  ‘Oh, does it,’ he answered grimly. ‘Then let’s see if I can’t make you feel a little worse.’ He pulled her off the Dark Walk, and there held her in the shadows with her back against a tree, her hands pinioned firmly above her head with one of his, whilst with the other he caught hold of her chin. ‘You’ve pulled the tiger’s tail with a vengeance, my dear,’ he said softly. ‘Now, you must face the consequences.’ Then his mouth was on hers, unrelenting and hard at first, as if to punish, then coaxing and seductive.

  Jessie, who had been hot with anger up until the very moment when he kissed her, now began to feel consumed with flames of quite another kind. His desertion, his accusations were all forgotten. He released her hands and pulled her into his embrace. Instinctively, she struggled at first, then all the fight went out of her as his kiss demanded a response from her. From pushing at his shoulders, her hands crept around the back of his neck and returned his embrace as she allowed him to pull her closer to him. She was quite unable to resist the power of his touch; unable to stop herself from opening her mouth at the pressure of his lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss.

  Eventually, he broke off. ‘Jez…?’ he said. For a moment or two, she stared at him, until the sound of a man’s low laughter nearby broke the spell. Suddenly she came to her senses. What on earth was she doing? She was engaged to Henry, but had allowed the Fallen Angel to kiss her in the Dark Walk, like any common woman of the streets. Had Raff kissed the woman in the crimson gown at Vauxhall, she wondered? Would he be kissing her again later, in exchange for the money that he had given her?

  ‘Let go of me if you please,’ she said, her voice only trembling a little.

  He released her, and for a moment she felt very cold. ‘Jez,’ he said again.

  ‘If you have quite finished mauling me, I would like to go back to Henrietta,’ she went on as if he had not spoken. ‘We will be missed.’

  He caught hold of her shoulders again. ‘Mauling?’ he echoed incredulously. ‘You cannot pretend that you did not return my kiss.’

  ‘But I would prefer to forget that it ever happened,’ she told him. ‘I am as disgusted at myself as I am at you.’

  ‘I see. Then come, madam.’ He offered her his arm and they returned to the box.

  Henrietta was pleased to see them, but did not appear to be unduly anxious. ‘I saw Lord Ashbourne waiting for you beside the dance floor, so I knew that all would be well,’ she said serenely.

  If only you knew, Jessie thought to herself. Oh Henrietta, I could write a whole chapter for you if it were something that I could share.

  Their party stayed for a little longer. Lord Ashbourne exerted himself to please and if Jessie was a little quieter than usual, Henrietta’s good spirits more than made up for it. Jessie went for a dance with Mr Hinder, and took pains to make sure that Raff – with whom she certainly did not want to dance – could see how much she was enjoying herself.

  They did not see Sir Wallace again until they were on the point of departure. They were just walking towards the boats when a shout of laughter drew their attention. Glancing in the direction from which the laughter came, Jessie saw Sir Wallace exchanging banter with two other men. He had his arm round the waist of a young woman. So much for his interest in my charms, she thought to herself.

  As they reached the shore, one of the boatmen came to pick Henrietta up, but Raff waved another fellow away and lifted Jessie in his arms. She looked into his face, remembering how he had kissed her, and saw that the same thoughts were going through his mind. She turned her face away, and at the same moment, caught sight of Sir Wallace and the young woman. At that moment Raff turned his head and saw the baronet.

  ‘You see, he’s found consolation already,’ said Ashbourne.

  ‘As will you, no doubt,’ she retorted.

  ‘How well you know me, dear Jez,’ he replied with an unpleasant smile. They were the last words that they exchanged that evening, apart from the brief word of thanks that she offered to him as they arrived at Sloane Street.

  It was a long time before Jessie was able to get to sleep that night. Why on earth had Henry’s sister chanced to be living in London? she asked herself. Had she but made her home in Bath, or Harrogate or anywhere else in the world, she might have been safe from encountering Raff. She had been aware that in coming to the capital, she would risk meeting him, but she had told herself that it was a big place, in which his social activities would never coincide with those of Henrietta Machin. Perhaps they would not have done had Henrietta been the sedate clergyman’s widow that her brother believed her to be. Instead, once having discovered her guest’s connection to the notorious rake, Henrietta had done her best to seek him out, at the expense of Jessie’s peace of mind.

  Jessie had always known that she would have to master her infatuation if she was to marry Henry. Since she could not do this by not seeing Raff, she had to find some other method of conquering her feelings. In trying to do
this, she had veered wildly between telling herself that she could regard him just as a family friend, and vowing that she could only despise a man who was, by his own admission, a libertine.

  The incidents that had taken place that evening had done nothing to dispel her confusion. Tonight was the first time that Raff had ever kissed her, apart from an occasional friendly peck on the cheek. Now that he had done so, she wondered how she would ever be able to kiss Henry without thinking of Raff. She could not even pretend that he had forced her. Her cheeks burned again as she remembered how she had wrapped her arms around his neck, and opened her mouth under his kiss so that his tongue could gain an entrance.

  She could not deceive herself. Despite that kiss, Raff was no more within her reach than he had ever been. She had once overheard his sister, Lady Agatha, say that she was not the kind of pretty slut who attracted him. That evening at Vauxhall, she had had the chance to view one such pretty slut at close quarters. It was not so much that she had been pretty, more that her charms had been well on display. ‘He disgusts me,’ she told herself fiercely. ‘Henry is worth ten of him.’

  She had done wrong, but it could have been far worse. She was not yet married, after all. Perhaps it was a good thing that it had happened, for she now knew how dangerous it was for her to go anywhere near Raff. From now on she must avoid him as much as possible, for the sake of her sanity. Eventually, realizing that sleep would prove impossible for the time being, she got out of bed, put on her wrapper, lit some candles and took them over to the table in the window. Then, after mending a pen and taking out a sheet of paper she began to make a list.

  Things to be done

  Write a letter to Henry, confessing about going to Vauxhall

  Wear my engagement ring

  Go to read at the poor house

  Make Henry the best wife possible

  Those first few were easy. She was particularly pleased with the last one. After all, many people married for reasons other than love. She knew that Henry himself was not in love with her, and at least she respected him. After she had written them down, she sat chewing the end of her pen for a long time. There were all kinds of other things that she could put down like writing to Lady Hope and Lady Agatha, darning the hole in the toe of her stockings, and calling to see Miss Simms to thank her for the work done on her gown, but she knew that she was only avoiding the real issue. In the end, after a sigh, she put pen to paper once more.