The Ton's Most Notorious Rake

by Sarah Mallory

  Molly wondered if Russ would disapprove of what amounted to an elopement. Would he disapprove of her for helping them? Her eyes grew hot and she blinked rapidly. Not that it would make any difference now, since their friendship was quite at an end.

  They had reached the yard when the landlord came running out of the taproom.

  ‘Mr Frayne, there is a gentleman arrived, sir, and he was asking about yourself and Mrs Morgan. I think he wishes to call upon you tomorrow—since you are here, would you like to see him now, before you leave?’

  Edwin helped Molly into the carriage before answering the landlord.

  ‘I think not. My sister is far too fatigued for that. But we don’t wish to offend the fellow, so you had best not mention that we were here tonight. He can call at the vicarage tomorrow—but tell him not to call too early, mind you!’ He jumped in after Molly and muttered as the door closed upon them, ‘Hopefully by the time he comes, we will both be away from home.’

  * * *

  Russ strode out across the moors, hoping the fresh early-morning air would clear his head. He had risen before dawn and slipped out of the house as soon as there was light to see his way. He had spent a restless night, the images of Gerald and Molly haunting his dreams. Molly dancing with Gerald, laughing with him. Talking with him. Allowing him to kiss her hands.

  Surely there was nothing in it, yet Gerald had been oddly distracted on the journey back from the King’s Head and, unusually, he had not shared his thoughts with Russ. They had not clashed over a woman since their schooldays and Russ hoped that his suspicions were unfounded, but there was no doubt that Molly had been very friendly towards Gerald last night. Whereas towards him—his thoughts veered off. He had only himself to blame if she was angry with him. He had taken her to his room, pleasured her—yes, pleasured her, he reminded himself—but then he had explained why it could go no further. Why he was not the man for her.

  He whipped his stick across the dying heather. Confound it, he had spoken no more than the truth. He was trying to save her from the hurt and disappointment of losing her heart to a rake.

  He stopped. Had she lost her heart already? Was she—could she be in love with him?

  The idea was enticing. He wanted it to be true and he could almost believe it was. Molly was no flirt, but she had kissed him, trusted him. He began to walk again, more slowly this time. Above him the clear grey sky was slowly changing to blue as the first bars of sunlight appeared on the horizon, and the golden rays seemed to pierce his soul. He had already acknowledged that Molly was not greedy and grasping like his stepmother. Now he was forced to recognise his own feelings. He loved her. Deeply. But was it possible he could be a faithful husband?

  No. A ridiculous fancy. Most likely due to lack of food—after all, he had been walking for more than an hour and had eaten nothing since last night. He turned to make his way back to Newlands, but the idea of marriage had taken hold and he could not shake it off. It might already be too late. Perhaps Gerald had stolen the march on him and was going to offer for Molly today. After all, it was no secret that Edwin was going away, so she would be alone. Russ recalled now when he had pressed Gerald to tell him what was the matter, all his friend would do was laugh and say he would explain everything once tomorrow was over. The leaden weight was now dragging at his heart. Did Molly think Gerald a man of integrity, a man who would make her comfortable?

  ‘But she does not love him!’

  The words burst from him. He would stake his life that they were true, yet he feared she might accept an offer from Gerald. After all, Russ had awakened the passion in Molly, had told her she would find happiness with another man. Why should that man not be Kilburn? Suddenly the thought of losing Molly hit Russ like a physical blow. He veered away from the house and almost ran to the stables. He must go and see her, tell her what a crass fool he had been and put his future, his happiness, in her hands.

  He was surprised to find the stable yard already bustling with activity. The Kilburns’ barouche was being wheeled out of the carriage house and while Russ waited for his horse to be saddled he asked the head groom who had ordered the carriage.

  ‘Miss Kilburn, sir. She and the other ladies are driving into Compton Parva this morning.’ The fellow allowed a grin to split his weather-beaten features. ‘I believe they’re going shopping again, sir.’

  Russ realised he had been holding his breath. So Gerald had not ordered the barouche and a quick glance in the stables showed that his friend’s grey hack was still in its stall. He scrambled up on to his horse and gathered up the reins. He had the chance to get to Molly first and put right the damage he had done.

  Once they had clattered out of the yard, Russ gave Flash his head and galloped through the park to the gates, but he steadied the big horse once they reached the road. Impatient as he was to see Molly he did not wish to arrive looking flustered.

  * * *

  The morning sun was warm on his back as he trotted into the town and, as he knocked on the vicarage door, his spirits were high.

  They sank moments later with the news that Mrs Morgan had gone out. The manservant was very polite, but refused to divulge his mistress’s direction. Even when Russ asked him directly if she had gone to Prospect House, the fellow remained tight-lipped.

  ‘And when do you expect her back?’

  ‘I’m afraid I cannot say, sir.’

  ‘Come, man, surely you know when your mistress will return.’

  The man coloured, but stood his ground. ‘My mistress has given me no instructions to divulge such information, sir.’

  Russ wondered if she had seen his approach and had given orders to deny her. As the door closed he stepped back and looked up at the first-floor windows, but they were blank. Not even the twitch of a curtain to suggest anyone was watching him. Yet the feeling persisted that the manservant was hiding something and he wondered whether Gerald would be admitted if, or when, he called. Russ decided he would not leave town just yet. There was a small coffee house just across the road from the vicarage and he strolled over. There were not many customers and he positioned himself at a table near the window, from where he had a good view of the vicarage door. If nothing else, it would give him an opportunity to break his fast.

  * * *

  Two hours later the only caller at the vicarage had been an elderly gentleman, who had also been turned away, and Russ left the coffee shop, cursing himself for being so foolishly jealous of his best friend. He walked back to the King’s Head, where he had left his horse, but as he passed the door and headed for the yard a tap boy came running out to beg him to step inside and join Miss Kilburn and her party, who were taking coffee in a private parlour. Russ guessed the ladies had finished their shopping trip. He would be expected to escort them back to Newlands and in truth he did not object, so he turned back and entered the inn. Hopefully conversing with Agnes, Serena and Mrs Sykes might take his mind off Molly.

  The ladies greeted him cheerfully and bade him sit at the table with them. While they waited for fresh coffee to be brought in, Russ evaded questions about what had brought him to the town so early.

  ‘When you did not join us for breakfast we assumed you were out with Gerald,’ remarked Serena, as the servants withdrew again.

  ‘Oh?’ Russ looked up. ‘Where has he gone?’

  ‘He left word that he is visiting friends,’ explained Agnes, pouring coffee for everyone.

  ‘Strange that he should say nothing about this last night,’ remarked Russ.

  Agnes waved a dismissive hand. ‘Perhaps he only had word from them when we returned from the King’s Head.’

  ‘Russ, you will never guess what we heard when we arrived in Compton Parva this morning,’ declared Serena, her eyes wide. ‘Miss Hebden told us that Molly was seen getting into a carriage early this morning. The whole town is buzzing with it.’

  ‘Then the whole town sh
ould be ashamed of themselves,’ retorted Agnes, directing a frown at Serena. ‘Most likely Molly was going to Prospect House.’

  ‘Then why did she not take the gig?’ argued Serena. She turned to Russ, her eyes wide. ‘But what if she has run off with someone? Did you know that Gerald left at dawn and in a closed carriage? What if they were running off together?’

  ‘Serena!’ Agnes was laughing and shaking her head, declaring that she was talking nonsense.

  ‘So Gerald is not at Newlands?’ Russ tried to subdue his growing suspicion.

  ‘No,’ said Agnes, avoiding his eye. ‘He left word that we were not to expect him to return before tomorrow evening at the earliest. Oh, dear, this coffee pot is empty. Ring the bell, Serena, if you please, and we will order more.’

  Russ schooled his countenance to indifference and kept silent while they waited for the servant to refresh the coffee pot. He would not believe there was any intrigue between Gerald and Molly. It was one thing to think Gerald might go to the vicarage and propose, but he was quite sure Molly would never agree to an elopement. Besides, she was of age and had no need to run away. No, it was a ridiculous idea and once the servant had withdrawn Russ asked cheerfully what other news the ladies had gleaned in the town that morning.

  ‘Why, nothing,’ replied Agnes, smiling at him. ‘Do you think we are such sad creatures that we only live for gossip?’

  ‘Well, there was the altercation Serena and I overheard between the landlord and one of his guests as we came in today,’ declared Mrs Sykes. ‘The gentleman was complaining that the landlord had misled him and he was asking all and sundry about Mrs D—’

  ‘Oh, la, but that is nothing to do with us,’ exclaimed Serena, rudely talking over the older lady. ‘We should be more concerned about Gerald. Russ, I think he has eloped with Molly.’

  He said sharply, ‘Do not be so foolish, Serena. I beg you will not utter such damaging nonsense again.’

  ‘Oh, I shall not say it to anyone else,’ Serena replied sunnily.

  ‘You will not say anything more at all!’ he growled.

  ‘Only I could not but notice that Gerald and Molly were on such good terms last night,’ she continued, quite ignoring her brother. ‘But I suppose that is not surprising, for Molly was looking exceptionally well, did you not think, Russ? She is quite transformed these past few weeks. Or had you not noticed?’

  ‘Pray do not tease your brother, Serena,’ Agnes begged, her cup clattering in its saucer.

  ‘And why not? It is clear that he loves Molly Morgan.’

  ‘Mercy me!’ Mrs Sykes began to fan herself rapidly.

  Russ barked, ‘Serena, that is enough!’

  But his minx of a sister merely turned her frank gaze upon him and demanded that he deny it, if it was not true.

  ‘And Molly is quite as much in love with you,’ she continued, reaching for another piece of cake.

  He ground his teeth. ‘If...if that were so, she would hardly be running off with Kilburn.’

  Serena studied the cake for a moment before taking a tiny bite. ‘Well, after the way you behaved last night I think she might well run off with anyone, just to teach you a lesson. And I cannot but think it a mistake. They will both be very miserable, don’t you agree?’

  A stillness had fallen over the room. Russ clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing and to think calmly.

  ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘Molly is not the sort to elope with anyone. I know her too well to think she would countenance such impropriety.’ He caught the look that passed between Agnes and Serena and was instantly on the alert. ‘Well, what is it?’

  ‘Gerald told his man he was heading for Nidderton,’ said Agnes.

  ‘Is that not where Mr Frayne is meeting the bishop?’ murmured Serena. ‘And bishops can issue licences for a speedy marriage.’ She looked at Russ as he pushed his chair back, the legs scraping across the boards. ‘You are going after them.’

  ‘Yes.’ He snatched up his hat. ‘I do not think for a moment there is any truth in your outrageous supposition, but I need to be sure.’

  ‘Splendid. And when you get back, brother mine, you may thank me properly.’

  He was at the door, but at these words he stopped. ‘When I get back, sister,’ he said with menace, ‘I shall arrange for you to be sent to a nunnery, you interfering baggage!’

  * * *

  The private parlour at the Bear was comfortable enough. A cheerful fire blazed in the hearth, but even with the shutters closed the sounds from the market square intruded. However, everyone was too grateful to have found accommodation to complain. Edwin had joined Molly, Fleur and Gerald for the evening, assuring them that he had seen quite enough of his ecclesiastical colleagues during the day and was happy not to dine with them. However, when the covers were removed, he declined Gerald’s invitation to join him in a glass of brandy.

  ‘I know it is not late, but it is time I returned to my own lodgings. Do not forget I have been up since before dawn.’

  ‘So, too, have we,’ said Molly, smothering a yawn. ‘It has been a long day.’

  ‘But a successful one,’ put in Gerald. He reached out and caught Fleur’s hand. ‘We are both extremely grateful. To Molly, for agreeing to come with us, and to you, Edwin, for promoting our cause with your bishop.’ He patted his pocket. ‘I have the licence safe and tomorrow I shall make Fleur my wife.’

  ‘And I shall have great pleasure in marrying you,’ declared Edwin, rising. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I had best leave before I fall asleep at the table.’

  Molly walked with him to the door, returning to find Gerald alone in the private parlour, sipping at his brandy.

  ‘Fleur has gone out to, um, pluck a rose,’ he said, using the familiar euphemism to indicate Fleur had gone out to the privy. ‘She is afraid she will not sleep tonight, and I suggested she take a glass of something before we all retire.’ He waved towards the bottles on the table. ‘You see our host has provided some light wine, as well as the brandy. Will you join us?’

  ‘With pleasure, Sir Gerald, although I do not foresee any difficulty in sleeping.’

  ‘Nor I, but—’ He broke off, frowning at the sounds of an altercation in the passageway. ‘What the devil is going on?’

  They both jumped to their feet as the door burst open and Russ came in, his greatcoat flapping open and a thunderous scowl on his face. He closed the door upon the still-protesting landlord and stood with his back against it, ignoring Gerald and glaring at Molly, who instinctively retreated behind the table.

  ‘Aye, madam,’ he barked, throwing his hat and gloves on to a chair, ‘you may well cower away from me!’

  ‘I say, old friend,’ Gerald protested, ‘there is no reason to be so angry with Molly.’

  ‘Oh, isn’t there?’ Molly took another step away at his icy tones. ‘She deceived me.’

  ‘Because we did not tell you what was happening? That was my fault,’ said Gerald. ‘I swore her to secrecy’

  ‘And why would you do that?’ Russ rounded on his friend. ‘Did you think I would call you out?’ His lip curled. ‘I would not waste my time. You are welcome to marry the jade.’

  ‘No, no, Russ, you have it all wrong,’ cried Molly, but her words went unheeded as Gerald moved forward, his face darkening.

  ‘You go too far, Russington.’

  ‘I haven’t gone far enough yet!’

  Molly watched in alarm as the two men squared up to one another. She flew around the table and pushed herself between them.

  ‘You cannot start a fight here!’ she said angrily, one hand on each chest. ‘Pray be sensible. You are friends.’

  ‘Not any longer!’ snapped Russ. He took Molly by the shoulders and firmly put her to one side. ‘Out of the way, strumpet, and let me at him!’

  For a brief moment chaos reigned. Molly grabbed his arm
and Gerald protested as Russ tried to shake her off, but they all froze as a loud shriek rent the air.

  ‘What is going on here?’

  * * *

  In the sudden silence Russ looked towards the door, where Fleur was standing with her hands on her pale cheeks.

  ‘What the devil!’ he exclaimed as she ran across the room and into Gerald’s arms. Not that he really needed to ask. He looked back at Gerald. ‘So you are not marrying Molly.’

  ‘Molly?’ Gerald blinked at him over Fleur’s golden head. ‘No, of course, I am not. She is here as chaperon. Fleur and I are to be married tomorrow, by licence.’

  ‘Ah, of course.’ Russ nodded slowly. ‘I understand now. I owe you all an apology.’

  He looked around for Molly. She had backed away and was now glaring at him.

  ‘How dare you?’ Her voice was shaking with anger. ‘How dare you force your way in here and insult everyone in that brutish manner? You will go, this minute.’

  ‘Not before you give me a chance to explain.’

  ‘I have heard quite enough from you,’ she threw at him. ‘A jade, am I? A strumpet! You had best leave, before I summon the landlord to throw you out!’

  ‘My love.’ Fleur pushed herself out of Gerald’s arms. ‘I need a little air. Will you take me outside, please?’

  ‘What, now?’ asked Gerald, a note of surprise in his voice. Russ was looking at Molly, but from the tail of his eye he saw Gerald jump, as if he had been pinched. ‘Oh, aye, yes. Of course.’

  ‘No!’ exclaimed Molly. ‘Fleur, you cannot leave me alone with this...this monster!’

  Ignoring her protests, Gerald whisked Fleur out of the room and closed the door firmly behind them. Russ knew they were giving him a chance to make his peace with Molly, but was it too late? She was still glaring at him, her arms folded as if to shield herself from attack.