The Infamous Rakes

by Amanda Scott

  Felicia thought Lady Crawley and Lady Westfall a pair of amiable chatterboxes and Lady Dacres a snob. The latter’s son, a tall, handsome young man with jet black hair and dark blue eyes, joined them midway through the evening, and Felicia saw Belinda color up to her eyebrows and glance at her brother. But Dacres paid more heed to his aunt and to Miss Oakley than he did to Rosa or Belinda, so it was left to Dawlish to look after them when refreshments were served.

  Felicia had met a number of pleasant young men like Dawlish during her first and only Season—all well-spoken, polite, and rather boring. When Belinda and Theo complained that they could not understand the Frenchwoman’s words, it was he who very kindly explained her songs to them, keeping his voice low enough so that he did not irritate anyone who actually had come to hear the music. Such persons were few, for as Felicia had seen at once, the main interest of the evening, aside from having a good look at the reclusive duchess, was to see and be seen and to catch up on all that had happened since everyone had left London at the end of the previous Season.

  “Will you walk with me?”

  Felicia started and turned to find Crawley behind her. When the others in their party had disappeared toward the refreshment room, she had stayed behind, standing to ease the strain of having sat still for more than an hour.

  When she did not respond at once, he said, “The doors to the garden terrace are open, and the garden is lit with torches, which must be a magnificent spectacle. Moreover, it is warm in here, just as your sister said it would be, but if you are still cold, we can stroll through the reception rooms instead.”

  “I do not know that I ought to go anywhere at all,” she said. “If my sister were to come back, she might wonder where I had gone.”

  “Your sister is surrounded by a host of admiring young men,” he said. “I could not even get near her. Besides, I want to talk with you, so do not disappoint me.”

  “I should like to see the garden,” she said, thinking that it might be her one and only chance to do so. From all she had heard about the duchess, such evenings as this had become rare.

  “Since her grace is not likely to do this again soon,” he said, “I own, I am glad of your choice.”

  “I wish you would not do that,” Felicia said.

  “Do what?” His hand felt warm in the small of her back as he guided her toward a set of double doors, the gold curtains of which had been looped back with red cords. The doors stood open.

  “The way you seem to say the words that are in my head is most unsettling to my nerves,” she said, looking up at him.

  He smiled, and so close was he as they moved through the doorway that his smile seemed to heat the very blood in her veins. His voice was low. “Am I doing that? I did not know.”

  “N-no, how could you?” She collected her wits with difficulty. “It is most uncanny, sir, as if you were reading my mind. But of course, such a thing is not possible.”

  “No,” he said. “I wish it were.”

  “Do you?” She continued to look up at him. He was so much taller than she was and, she thought, very handsome, especially when he smiled at her as he was smiling now. His right hand was still at her waist, guiding her, its warmth passing easily through the muslin to her skin. It was a large hand, certainly twice the size of her own, and it felt comfortable there.

  “If I knew what you were thinking,” he said, “I would know whether to count you as a friend or a member of the opposition.”

  “Opposition?” She tilted her head a little. “I do not understand you, sir. How might I oppose you?”

  “Why, it would be simple. You have only to betray my folly in the way I introduced myself to your notice, and I shall find myself at point non plus in no time.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said with a sinking feeling, “you did mention that you wished to fix my sister’s interest, did you not? I had forgotten, I’m afraid. But surely, you will not pretend that you fell in love with her at first sight.”

  He did not answer at once. Noting that he glanced briefly away from her, she half expected him to insist that that was the case, but he said abruptly, “No, I’ll not say that. Indeed, if we are to talk of pretense, Miss Adlam, I’d prefer that you tell me why you must always pretend to be so damned composed.”

  “I don’t pretend!”

  “Oh, yes, you do, and I must tell you it accomplishes little other than to make me want to discover what will disconcert you.”

  “You talk nonsense, sir.”

  “Do I?” He glanced swiftly about, and she realized that for that moment, at least, they were alone on the terrace. Before she had time to discern his intent, he pulled her close and kissed her. When she struggled, as much against a surge of unexpected desire as against the unspeakable outrage, he let her go at once.

  She raised her hand to strike him.

  “Not too hard,” he warned. “The mark will show.”

  Her hand fell. She said with what she hoped was a scathing chill in her voice, “If you brought me out here in order to pique Theo’s interest, and hope I will tell her of this, you have sadly misjudged me, Lord Crawley, for I will do no such thing. Nor will I ever allow my sister to marry a mere fortune hunter.”

  “Oh, not so mere, Miss Adlam. Witness your precarious hold on that composure of yours. In point of fact, I brought you out here because I wanted to do so, and for no other reason; however, it does occur to me now that it is entirely possible your sister is not the only heiress in the Adlam family. Am I correct?”

  Felicia moved away from him and said coolly, “It can make no difference for you to know my circumstance, sir. You would not for a moment make me believe you were interested in me, not after your reaction to my sister. And your efforts will prove fruitless with her, as well. Theo is bit impulsive perhaps, and a trifle ... well, a bit—”

  “Vain?” he suggested helpfully, apparently not the least bit offended by the animadversions she had cast upon his character.

  She glared at him. “She is also very shrewd, sir, and not the least likely to give her heart to one who seeks her fortune. Indeed, I should prefer it if you do not visit our house again.”

  “Do you intend to play gooseberry then?” he asked, smiling again. “I can promise you that your sister and Vyne will be at each other’s throats within ten minutes of his arrival.”

  Felicia thought about that, and also about the fact that Theo would be furious if she barred Crawley from the house. Finally, she said, “I suppose you can still be of help, and I daresay you can do no harm. Indeed, sir, it might well teach you a good lesson,” she added, wanting badly to have the last word.

  She was denied it. With a mocking smile, he said, “We shall see, Miss Adlam. We shall certainly see.”

  5

  WHEN FELICIA AND CRAWLEY returned to the music room a few minutes later, the others were in their seats and Madame Fournier was taking her place to sing again. Ignoring Crawley, who promptly began to flirt with Theo, Felicia sat down beside her, striving to look composed despite her outraged sensibilities. She paid little heed either to the music or to the low-voiced conversations around her, and had she been asked later, she would have been hard pressed to name a single song Madame Fournier had sung. But the evening ended at last, and by the time they reached Park Lane, she had herself in hand again and had decided she had been making entirely too much of quite a small matter.

  Watching her lovely sister accept the footman’s hand to descend from the carriage, Felicia was certain Theo had not the least idea that Crawley meant to fix his interest with her. She had chattered all the way home about the people she had met at Devonshire House, but there were as many young women’s names mentioned as young men’s, and Felicia was glad of it.

  Lady Augusta, leaning out to say good night to them from the carriage, which would carry her on to her house in Upper Brook Street, said earnestly, “You have been quiet, my dear. One has nothing to complain of in your behavior, of course, but you must exert yourself more in future to joi
n the conversation, lest you be thought a trifle too haughty.”

  Felicia, caught unaware by the mild stricture, said rashly, “Surely we were meant to listen to the music, ma’am.”

  “Pish tush. There is a time and a place for everything, Felicity, and the beginning of the London Season is not the time to ignore those who can do you the most good.”

  “I shall know better next time, Aunt Augusta. Come, Theo, we must not keep these horses standing. It has grown chilly.”

  Theo did not even wait for the carriage to drive away before saying, “It was unfair of her to take you to task, but you were very quiet, even for you. Is anything amiss?”

  “No, no, nothing,” Felicia said, hoping the powers above would forgive her the deception. She had little fear that Theo would fall victim to any fortune hunter, for the girl had a strong sense of her own worth and would no doubt demand high payment for her hand, but Felicia was persuaded it would serve no good purpose to tell her she had already made such a conquest.

  They went up the shallow steps together, and Peters, who had preceded them in order to apply the knocker, moved aside when the door opened, and they stepped into the hall to discover Miss Ames, looking disheveled in her cream-colored nightcap and robe, peering myopically down at them from the gallery railing.

  “Oh, thank heaven, Miss Adlam,” she exclaimed. “I have only just this moment left her with Mary, but I must beg you to come up at once. I quite simply do not know what to do for her!”

  “For whom?” Felicia asked, stripping off her gloves. “Has Mama been ailing? No doubt she missed our company this evening.”

  “Oh, no, miss, nothing of the sort. It is Miss Sara Ann.” The governess appeared to realize that it was not at all the thing to be carrying on a conversation from the gallery rail, within the hearing of several servants in the hall. Primming her lips, she straightened and stepped back rather quickly, as though she wished to disappear into the hall.

  Felicia said to Theo, “I will attend to this. You go to bed so that you will not look like a hag in the morning. Do not forget, Sir Richard is to be here at eight o’clock. He did not seem to be the sort of man who will be unpunctual.”

  Theo grimaced. “No, he will be here if only to torment me. You did not go with us to the supper room, Felicia, so you cannot know how rude he was. The least objectionable thing he said was when he pointed out a picture on the wall and said it was the one time the artist ever dipped his brush into paint that he did not make a royal muck of his work. Belinda Crawley said she thought that was by way of being a compliment, but I ask you!”

  Felicia smiled. “Nonetheless, my dear, you will admit that the portrait he painted of the duchess was a splendid one.”

  Theo shrugged. “True, but if he thinks he can continue ordering me about, or even talking to me in that stupid, superior manner of his, I shall soon pin his ears back, I promise you.”

  “I would not risk annoying him until your portrait is done, however,” Felicia said with a smile. Then, at the sound of a hiss from above, she looked up and said, “I am coming, Miss Ames. Come on up to bed, Theo, and think pleasant thoughts so you will be at your best in the morning.”

  They went upstairs to the gallery together. Then Theo went on up to her bedchamber and Felicia went to speak to Miss Ames.

  “Is Sara Ann sick?”

  “Oh, no,” the governess said quickly, “but she’s had the most dreadful nightmare, and nothing will calm her. I even resorted to scolding the poor child, telling her a lady does not indulge in such tantrums. It wrung my heart, for I can see that she is overwrought, but I did not know what else to do. Mary is sitting with her now, so that I might come to tell you.”

  “Excellent,” Felicia said. “Mary comes from quite a large family and will no doubt know just what to do for her.” She was able to indulge this belief only for the few short minutes it took them to go up to Sara Ann’s bedchamber on the next floor. The moment Felicia walked in, she knew she had more to deal with than a simple nightmare.

  Sara Ann was sobbing gustily against the plump chambermaid’s bosom, and Mary looked up at the sound of the door’s opening with a look of helpless bewilderment.

  “I don’t know what to make of it, miss. She’s just been a-sobbing and a-sobbing like her little heart was breaking, and if I try to set her back against her pillows, she screams as if ten devils was after her. First she said it was robbers, then murderers, and when I told her that them as does such stuff knows better than to set foot in a gentleman’s house, she just started sobbing like what you hear now.”

  “You may go now, Mary,” Felicia said quietly. “I will attend to her. Fetch me a glass of water with a tablespoon of hartshorn in it. Then you may go to bed. Miss Ames, you may also go. No, Sara Ann, you must not begin shrieking again,” she added, putting a hand on the child’s shoulder when, with a doubtful look, the maid began to disengage herself from the child’s frenzied clutches. “I am with you, and I will not go away till you give me leave, but I cannot abide shrieking, so you must be quiet and concentrate on collecting yourself.”

  “Are you sure?” Miss Ames asked in a tone so low that Felicia nearly did not catch the words. “I do not mind staying. I am very concerned about her.”

  “I know, but I think she will do better if I am alone with her. We must discover what caused her distress, you know.”

  “Well, if you can do that, it will be something,” the governess said with a sigh. “Goodness knows, I tried.”

  For a time it seemed that she, too, would fail, for by the time Mary returned with the articles Felicia had requested, the little girl still had not spoken sensibly. When she quieted enough to allow Felicia to ask her a question, the reply was another flood of tears. And when that happened a second time, Felicia fell silent, holding her as Mary had done, stroking her tangled blond hair, and rocking her. At last, when Sara Ann had been quiet for several minutes, except for an occasional sob, Felicia tried a different tack.

  “Have you fallen asleep, little mouse?”

  “No.” The word came in a whisper.

  “Shall I tell you a story? I know some very good ones that Aunt Augusta used to tell me when I was small. She was quite a good storyteller, in fact, though her remarkable affinity for fables did become rather tiresome after a time. There was always a moral, you see, and one always felt as though one ought to benefit from hearing the tale. There were times when I felt utterly at a loss, because I simply hadn’t understood the moral and did not know what I was expected to learn.”

  “But Aunt Augusta would ...” The words died in a sob.

  “Oh, she would have explained them to me, certainly,” Felicia said in a tone of agreement, as though the child had finished her sentence, “but I never asked for an explanation because I thought she might be angry with me for not understanding. I know now, of course, that she would never have been angry in such a case, but when one is a child, one frequently does not trust grown-ups to behave sensibly.”

  There was silence.

  “Would you like to hear a story?”

  The small head against her bosom nodded.

  “What kind do you like best? Animal or people stories?”

  “People.” Sara Ann straightened a little, getting more comfortable, and Felicia pulled a pillow forward, plumping it.

  “You can lie back against the pillow if you like.”

  “I like it here. Tell me more about when you were little.”

  Felicia shifted on the small cot, trying to make herself comfortable, and dredged her memory for an entertaining reminiscence. She hoped the dawn would not find her still in the same position, but she did not have the heart to leave Sara Ann in her present state. She began by telling her about the first time she had fallen off her pony and had to walk home. A watery chuckle greeted the revelation, and Felicia went on, feeling more confident that she might yet calm the child enough to sleep. She had been focusing all her attention on Sara Ann, so she was surprised when she finished the tal
e to look up and see Tom standing in the doorway, watching her.

  Sara Ann, confused by her sudden silence, sat straight, and seeing her brother, said, “Come in and hear the story Aunt Felicia is telling me about how she learned to ride a horse. You know Aunt Theo has told us Aunt Felicia is the very best rider in the family—even better than Papa—but it was not always so.”

  “I heard most of it,” Tom said as he stepped farther into the room. He was in his nightshirt, with his cap still on his head, and he reached up self-consciously to pull it off. “What was all the ruckus before?”

  Sara Ann hid her face against her aunt’s breast, and Felicia said, “She cannot talk about it yet. Perhaps later.”

  He nodded, his brow furrowing. Then he said, “She oughtn’t to be keeping you up till all hours, ma’am. I can sit with her.”

  Feeling Sara Ann stiffen against her, Felicia said, “What is it, dear? Surely, you are not afraid of your brother.”

  A hiccup was followed by a sob before Sara Ann muttered, “Why don’t our mama and papa want us, Aunt Felicia?”

  “Oh, darling, you mustn’t think that,” Felicia said, dismayed. “It isn’t that they don’t want you; it is just that there are so many advantages for you here in England that they cannot provide in India. You will get a much better education, for one thing. And things are cleaner here and healthier for you. And when you grow up, you will want to take your proper place in society, just as your mama did. But she and your papa will have returned long before then, of course. They just want to be certain you do not lack anything in the meantime.”

  “We lack them!” Sara Ann sobbed. “I want my father!”

  Felicia looked at Tom and, seeing her own surprise reflected on his face, said, “I had expected her to cry for her mama, I suppose. I hope you will forgive me if I find it difficult to imagine your papa inspiring such despair.”