Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset

by Samantha Holt

  “But childhood does not last forever. Just because you have not hurt me personally does not mean that I could ever approve of the way in which you have hurt so many others,” Maryanne lamented. Her tone was not spiteful. It was almost sad as if she too missed their childhood closeness. It cut him to the quick in the way an angrier rebuke never could have done. He had truly wounded her by his actions. She was ashamed of him, of knowing him, of having cared for him.

  Suddenly, Freddie was ashamed of himself too. “Saying I am sorry I am sure will not change a thing. So, tell me what would make you change your mind, Lady Maryanne? What can I do to redeem myself in your eyes? I’ll do it, whatever you wish.”

  “Be the man I thought you would be. The boy I knew was more of a man than you will ever be because he wasn’t scared of anything. He gave his heart without fear of it being trampled upon, he was honest and good, and could be relied upon to be there when he was needed most.” Maryanne looked him in the eye. “Be that man now. Let yourself trust again, Freddie.”

  She leant forward and unexpectedly kissed him tenderly on the cheek, opened the door, and gave him a tight smile as he made his way outside. Freddie had never felt so confused, so lost, and so alone as he did when she closed the door and left him outside on the front step. He stood there for a few moments, just thinking about what she had just said. He wanted to dismiss it as nonsense, but Maryanne was closer to the truth about him that she would ever know.

  He thought back to those halcyon days when he and Maryanne had enjoyed their adventures, exploring every inch of their families’ adjoining estates. They had played at being duke and duchess, assuming from the earliest times that they would one day be wed. It made sense, to their families for them to do so, to merge the estates, but also to them because who wouldn’t wish to marry the person who accepted and loved them just the way they were? Who knew them the very best in the entire world?

  Yet, when Maryanne was sent to Europe at sixteen to a sanatorium in Switzerland following a nasty bout of pneumonia to take the air and recover her health, Freddie had been crushed. He simply couldn’t imagine his life without her. Time had passed so very slowly whilst she was gone. Rumors that she had met someone and would be returning to England only to be wed before they made their life together on the continent had been all he heard, everywhere he went.

  Of course, he’d been a fool as he so often was. Rather than writing to Maryanne and asking for her confirmation of whether the gossip was even true, Freddie had simply assumed the worst. His life had changed utterly in a single moment. From being so abundantly sure of himself, of her, and of their future together he became unsure. He began to distrust his own judgment and he made a number of foolish decisions as he grieved.

  But, there was only so much wallowing a man could do. Eventually, he had realized that there was little point dwelling on what might have been. Instead, he needed to build a carapace around his heart. At the tender age of just nineteen, he began to build the foundations of life as he knew it now. Freddie modeled himself upon the men of his acquaintance that seemed most happy, those that took what they wanted with little regard for the feelings or needs of others. Vowing never to care so deeply again and promising himself to never be a fool over a woman again, Freddie cast his old self aside.

  By the time Maryanne had returned to England a year later, ready to be presented at court and finally have her coming out at Almack’s, unmarried and never having been affianced at all, it was too late, or so Freddie had told himself. She had missed her chance and he no longer cared to consider marriage to anyone. He had purposefully stayed away from her, knowing that word of his behavior would no doubt have reached her ears. He couldn’t bear the thought of her looking at him as she had tonight, as she had at Almack’s, with that look of disdain and disgust. No. It wasn’t that, he thought. It was when she looked at him with pity in her eyes. That cut him to the quick.

  So, why had he come here tonight? Why had he gone looking for a reason to get involved in her life again? Freddie had convinced himself that he had looked into Callender’s troubles to help the man and to make Maryanne happy. After all, he’d not known about any link between them when he set out from White’s the other day. But he had come here tonight because what he’d learned was just too much for him to keep to himself. He most certainly could not bear to let Maryanne be hurt by the man, no matter how much she might despise Freddie for it.

  So, what should he do now?

  Firstly, he must do as he’d promised the Earl. He must go to Percy and get him to intercede with Lady Helena. Then he would have to go and face Callender. He did not doubt that the little weasel would try and talk his way out of things. From what Freddie had found out, he was an excellent liar, a skilled cheat, and highly manipulative. Maryanne deserved better. If she was to settle upon a man with such traits then it would damned well be Freddie she chose not Callender.

  He hurried to White’s. As he’d expected, Geoffrey Percy was there playing cards with a group including Harry and Captain Stevens. The noise coming from the table was that of jovial competition, men ribbing one another good-naturedly as they drank and cheated each other at every hand. He pulled up a chair between Harry and Percy then poured himself a glass of the claret sat in the center of the table.

  “Might I be permitted to join in?” he asked.

  “Next hand, next hand,” Harry said dismissively, as he looked around at his opponents, judging their body language before he placed his bet. He pushed a pile of coins to the middle of the table. A roar went up when everyone realized he had put in every penny he had.

  “You sure you can risk all that, Harry?” Percy asked, good-naturedly. “It’s not quarter-day for another month after all.”

  Harry gave a mock-scowl. “I’m not the one who is rubbing up against the ends of my allowance,” he said. “I’ve not had to travel to Hampshire after all.”

  Percy gave him a look of wide-eyed surprise. “However did you know I went to Hampshire?” he asked. Freddie would rather like to know the answer to that question too and what its relevance might be.

  Harry laughed. “Dear God, Percy, Helena Devere is my cousin,” he reminded them both. “If you are going to travel to Hampshire to ask my uncle for his permission to marry the girl, you cannot be surprised if my family talks about it. I can tell you they’ve never been so excited.”

  Percy looked a little upset that his news had been revealed in such a way. “But, I haven’t even asked her yet. Don’t any of you dare say a word,” he said, giving them all a stern look. The men at the table all vowed that their lips were sealed and that they would rather die than do so.

  “But Helena already knows,” Harry pointed out. “Uncle is terrible at keeping secrets and, well, the idea of a Percy marrying into our family... He’s been crowing to whoever will listen. He sent her flowers to congratulate her on snaring one of the foremost titles in the land!”

  In a way, the poor man’s misery gave Freddie the perfect opening to ask his favor. What better way to salvage his love’s affections than to be the one to help protect her best friend? “Percy, ask her at the ball, as I am sure you had planned,” he said encouragingly. “We’ll deck the terrace with candles and flowers. You can make it into the most romantic bower imaginable. She’ll forgive you. But if all that does not help, then perhaps I can help. I have some information, that no doubt she may not want to hear, but I think that Lady Helena is wise enough to see that it is best coming from someone she knows cares about her and Lady Maryanne.”

  “You do? What could possibly be news she won’t want but will be good for me, for her, and for Lady Maryanne?” Percy asked, clearly confused by the idea of it.

  For a moment, Freddie wondered if he should say anything in front of so many people. But, the more he thought about it, the more people that did know the more likely it would be that Maryanne might listen. “It is about Werner Callender,” he said finally.

  “Callender? The furrier?” Harry asked. “The cha
p who was here the other day?”

  “That’s the one,” Freddie agreed. “He’s always made out that he’s a successful merchant, and has made no secret that he has designs upon Lady Maryanne.”

  “Indeed, I’ve seen them together more than once. He slips her love letters as though he thinks nobody else sees,” Percy said, nodding. “There’s something about the fellow I just don’t like.”

  “Well, you are quite right to have had your reservations,” Freddie said. “It turns out, that not only is he already married, but he owes money all over London. Even if all of his ships come in at once, he’ll not be able to clear his debts this quarter. In truth, the figure Mr Cooley uncovered, well, let’s say it would take him the rest of his life to pay it. Even then, there would be a thousand pounds or more required. I can only surmise that the man is a profligate gambler, whether it is at the tables or with his trading I do not know, but he has clearly been more than cavalier with many other men’s funds. He needs a bride with enough wealth to save him.”

  “And that is why he’s set his cap at Lady Maryanne?” Harry asked. “Is the Earl so very wealthy?”

  “I don’t know,” Freddie admitted. After all, one didn’t often sit down and discuss with any man just what he possessed. “But quite possibly. Though Callender is clearly a fool, I doubt he would have set out to undertake such an elaborate seduction if Lord Colbert were not.”

  Geoffrey nodded. “I’m sure of it,” he agreed.

  “I do know that the land he owns in Cumbria is fertile and the estate managed well. It would likely fetch a pretty sum. I know because my own family’s abuts theirs. His great-grandfather was rather a successful privateer. He was knighted and then given the earldom for his efforts protecting England from invasion on the high seas. I believe that they were given a generous swathe of land in Devon at that time too. I think there is a tin mine or some such that provides a generous income.”

  “But how could a weasel like Callender hope to attract someone like Lady Maryanne?” Harry asked. “She’s no silly chit. She is one of the most intelligent women many of us will ever know.”

  “I think he appeals to her simply because he has so little connection to the ton,” Freddie said wryly. He’d thought about it for a long time, and it was the only answer he could discern. “Lady Maryanne has never been enamored of the marriage mart and the forging of alliances through marriage.” Freddie had the worst feeling that he was, in part, responsible for her shunning those of her own kind.

  “So, you think that my telling Lady Helena all this will somehow make her forgive me for not asking her before the rest of the ton know about my intentions to propose marriage?” Percy asked, looking a little confused at such a notion.

  “I do,” Freddie said, “of all of us here, who knows women better than I?” The men around the table nodded grudgingly. Freddie had always been more successful than any of them when it came to understanding the fairer sex. “Well, women trust few people implicitly. Their best friend is more important to them than almost anything.” Even as he said the words, he felt a pang of emotion squeeze his heart mercilessly. He had once been Maryanne’s best friend, the one she turned to with her secrets and worries. He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue. “So, Percy, it is important to know that when something dreadful could happen to their best friend, any woman would be delighted to be the one to be able to put a stop to it.”

  Percy frowned, as did Harry. Freddie sighed. He had to convince Percy to do this. He had the worst feeling that something had to happen and soon. “Lady Helena is the only person Maryanne might listen to,” he said solemnly. “If none of us act, whatever the outcome might be, Maryanne will end up in dreadful peril. You know what happens to women when they are abandoned by bigamists? We cannot condemn her to such a fate, through no fault of her own, especially when we could have and should have done everything in our power to stop it.”

  Chapter Five

  Christmas Eve seemed to take an age to arrive. Nerves and excitement made Maryanne at times anxious and at others overjoyed that at last her life might truly begin. When she had doubts, she would read Mr Callender’s letters, tracing her fingertips over his words of love and their plans for a Christmas they would never forget. He would not let her down. Yet, something tugged at her, making her feel guilty and ashamed that she should be forced to resort to such drastic action. She tried to convince herself that she would never have needed to had her parents been more amenable and more understanding of her sensibilities.

  Christmas Eve itself finally dawned with a drizzly rain that made the world seem miserable and gray. Maryanne found herself impatient with every task required of her before she could attend the ball and see dear Mr Callender. She fidgeted throughout her bath, unable to relax even in the rose-scented water. She caused poor Browne to burn, not just Maryanne’s neck as she tried to tong her hair, but Browne’s fingers, too. She accidentally ripped her gown as she stepped into it causing poor Browne to curse under her breath and pray that she’d be able to hide the stitching well enough to cover up the tear.

  When she finally looked at herself in the cheval glass, Maryanne was satisfied that she at least looked lovely. Browne had done a superb job of hiding all the imperfections Maryanne had caused with her twitching and inability to sit still for a moment. It was now time for her to go and be with the man she loved. She took a moment to drink in her face, her gown, and herself. This was the last time she would gaze upon Lady Maryanne Colbert. By the time she returned to this house, she would be Mrs Werner Callender. A thrill of anticipation rippled through her and she hugged her arms around her body. She could hardly believe that such excitement, such happiness, could truly be hers. Though she knew that Mama and Papa would no doubt be disappointed, they would come to see that she had been right and that Werner was the very best of men. Maryanne was sure of it.

  Hurrying to her bed, she reached beneath it for her treasure trove of letters and trinkets from Mr Callender and stuffed them inside her reticule. She took the remainder of her allowance from the drawer by the bed and with a heavy sigh looked around her room. This might be the very last time she ever saw it. With a heavy heart, Maryanne closed the door and made her way downstairs. She would need every ounce of courage she possessed and then every bit of cunning to try and make sure that Papa and Mama would not disown her for her actions. She so prayed that they would understand. She loved Werner. She simply could not live without him by her side and she was sure that in time they would come to understand that.

  They were waiting for her in the hallway. Papa looked so smart in his evening suit and Mama was a vision in a red gown. The bodice was studded with seed pearls. She wore a perfect pear-shaped rose-pearl at her throat and matching earrings. Her hair was piled up upon her head, with elegant ringlets dropping down, the very image of fashion. “You look lovely, Mama,” Maryanne complimented as she kissed her on the cheek.

  “As do you, quite lovely,” said Papa as he hugged her close to him, and kissed the top of her head. Maryanne felt tears come to her eyes and a ball of emotion choke her throat. She wondered if this might be the last wonderful memory she ever had of her family. No doubt they would be wroth with her when they found out what she intended to do, but she could not let them stop her. She had to follow her heart or she would be miserable for all eternity.

  They got into the carriage, which whisked them through the dark London streets to the Linley’s grand house near St. James’. The driveway was lit up with lanterns that twinkled welcomingly. A queue of carriages waited to deliver their occupants to the front door. Each one opened to reveal elegantly attired members of the ton, all excitedly greeting one another as they waited to be announced.

  Maryanne’s eyes scanned the ballroom from the top of the stairs as she entered, looking out for Mr Callender. In his letter, he had told her he would be here early and that she should be ready for his signal. She was to leave as soon as he took his buttonhole and placed it down on a table, and to mee
t him at his carriage outside. She had already smuggled out a bag of her belongings that he had collected in the dead of night from under the bushes outside her family’s townhouse. She could hardly wait for this night to be over. Her chest felt tight and her breath was coming so fast, she feared she might faint and not be able to join him after all.

  However, rather than seeing the excited eyes of the man she loved, wherever she looked all she could see were the dark, amused eyes of Freddie Kerslake. He seemed to be determined to have her attention. His insufferable arrogance was teeth-gratingly annoying. He smiled at her as if he had never done anything to be ashamed of and was in fact still the good friend of her childhood. She wished she could slap him, but that would be most unladylike. Instead, she vowed to ignore him. He no longer had any influence over her and never would again.

  After being announced by the liveried Master of Ceremonies, Maryanne stepped forward into the crowd of festive souls, intending to try and find Helena or Werner. But Freddie seemed to have placed himself quite deliberately in her way. She gave an exasperated shrug as he greeted her. “Good evening, Lady Maryanne,” he said, genuflecting. She couldn’t even bring herself to be polite and give even the smallest of curtseys. She barely even looked at him.

  “Good evening, Your Grace,” she said, pointedly formal. “Please step aside, I am looking for my friends.”

  He chuckled. Maryanne winced, she had wanted to wound him with her comment, but he had the hide of a rhinoceros or so it seemed. “I see I am still your worst enemy,” he said. “Excellent. I should so hate to disappoint and I have worked so very hard to maintain my dreadful reputation. I can’t tell you how hard it has been to force myself to flatter and cajole so many beautiful women. Though, to be fair, I didn’t need to do very much. So many of them just offered themselves to me after all.”