Three Times the Scandal (Georgian Rakehells)

by Madelynne Ellis

Go away, she willed him. Of course, such desperation never worked. Instead, he continued to poke her with his eyes. I’m flawed, she wanted to yell. No one had questioned her too closely over the details of her absences. All that mattered was she meekly complied with her fate.

  For days she’d yearned to shout out her exploits, shock her fiancé with tales of her adventures with three lovers. How he would squirm, knowing her to be a slattern. Know it, he surely did. She’d babbled enough in her sleep, so Alicia had told her. Surely no one believed she was an innocent any more. I’m flawed, deeply and irrevocably flawed, she silently told him. I’ve bedded three men at the same time. I will not walk down the aisle a virgin, or go to our marriage bed imagining the discomfort there is purely to be endured. Love bound men and women’s hearts, not a vow spoken before God, nor a list of names in a parish register. In many ways, Giles had been so very right. Why should everything hinge on the exchange of a golden band?

  “Sir Hector! She needs her rest.” The hurried patter of footsteps sounded over the rug-covered boards as Alicia entered the room. Her soft floral smell wafted over Fortuna, bringing comfort.

  Macleane grunted in response.

  “So she’s well enough for the morning.” Alicia sounded strained despite her inherent politeness. “Please sir, it would be best if you left. You’ll have a whole lifetime of each other soon.”

  A lifetime! The thought brought the tingling threat of tears to Fortuna’s nose, but she forced herself to relax. He’d leave soon, providing he thought her asleep. He generally complied when Alicia pleaded with him, more so than with anyone else.

  A moment later the malignant air of menace vanished along with his footsteps, and Fortuna breathed more easily.

  “You can stop pretending now,” said Alicia. Having slept alongside one another since childhood there was no deceiving her.

  Fortuna peeped from beneath her eyelashes and saw that her sister stood with her back to the closed door. Relieved, she pushed herself into a seated position. Macleane wouldn’t bother her again now until they faced one another in church.

  Alicia fastened the latch then joined her on the bed. “Why does he do that? I know you’re engaged but it’s hopelessly improper for him to come up here alone and stand over you while you sleep.”

  “I think impropriety is the least of anyone’s worries, and he comes in, I suppose, to check that I am still here.”

  Alicia shuffled a little closer, leaning in to Fortuna’s side. Her lovely face was drawn and her sweet smile replaced by a dour moue. She took Fortuna’s hands within in hers and squeezed. “You know that if there were any other way I’d support you. I hate to think of you bound to that man. You must find a way to leave him just as soon as you can after the wedding. Perhaps Sarah will take you in, or Aunt Beatrice.”

  “Maybe,” Fortuna mumbled, refusing to think that far ahead. She wanted to marry a different man.

  “I called at the haberdashers earlier,” Alicia tentatively began. None of her sisters were allowed to leave the house unsupervised either. Macleane had rather taken over as head of the household. Social outings were no longer permitted. Likewise speaking to anyone outside the immediate family was frowned upon. “They had the most beautiful moiré silk. I thought it should make a fine mantle for you, so I ordered five yards. Do you think that will suffice?”

  Perplexed, Fortuna blinked at her sister’s rambling. “Isn’t it a little late to be thinking of mantles?” Her wedding outfit already hung in the closet.

  Alicia’s blue eyes shone with excitement, and not over any silk. In her hand she held a red pouch, which she placed in Fortuna’s before carefully folding her fingers over the top, and pressing her index finger to her lips. “A red-haired gentleman asked me to pass this to you.”

  It had to be from either Neddy or Darleston. Fortuna stared at the tiny pocket. Only two finger spans wide, it opened with a slender drawstring. She expected to find perhaps a coil of paper, letting her know that they had a plan and that she wasn’t forgotten, or even a simple “yes” in reply to her final question to Giles. Instead, what tipped out was a tiny enamel brooch in the shape of a carrot.

  “A carrot!” Alicia gasped incredulously, when Fortuna prodded it upright with her thumb. “Whatever does that signify?”

  Fortuna laughed, immediately catapulted back to the occasion of building the snowman in Giles’s walled garden, Neddy, joyously capering, and plucking a carrot from his pocket as if it were normal to carry such a thing. Her heart suddenly thumped. In spite of the sweet memory, the message was clear. “It means that I should be prepared.”

  “But for what?”

  “I’m not sure.” Did they intend to come for her, or to shoot Sir Hector dead? She recalled Neddy saying Giles was a hopeless shot. She didn’t want him to forfeit his life in exchange for her freedom anyway, but oh, how gloriously light her stomach felt. A great weight had been lifted. Joy at the notion of seeing Sir Hector breathing his last only intensified the affect.

  “Open the sash,” she demanded of Alicia.

  Her sister frowned. “But it’s freezing.” Although snow no longer troubled London, the night air remained chilly.

  “Throw it wide,” Fortuna insisted, as she slithered from the bed. Unsteadily, she hobbled across the room to where her trunk lay packed with her things, ready to be delivered to her new home after the wedding.

  “What are you doing? Let me help.” Having opened the window, Alicia came to her side.

  From the very bottom of the trunk, Fortuna dragged a flamboyant scarlet dress, overlaid with delicate gauze and embroidered with silver lilies. It had always brought her good luck in the past and had once helped turn Pennerley’s head. Now she prayed it would bring a different sort of luck.

  “Help me dress.”

  Standing pained her ankle, but with Alicia’s help she changed into the red dress and fashioned her hair as best as her new short cut would allow. Then she pulled on a thick velvet mantle, wrapped her cashmere shawl about her shoulders, and with the candles all extinguished, settled herself in the chair to wait.

  They’d come. Giles would come to get her. She was certain of it.

  For an hour, Alicia paced, and in her restrained fashion preached sensibility. They should rest. She should not read so much into so little. How could she interpret the gift of a carrot in a meaningful way? Her fear ebbed and flowed as she talked in circles, but nothing battered Fortuna’s faith. With that carrot, Neddy had made her a promise.

  Eventually, Alicia curled up upon the bed and slept. Fortuna tucked the coverlet around her before returning to her chair.

  Minutes, then hours crept by. Midnight struck, then half past. Fortuna’s eyes burned with the effort of staying awake. Her ribs and ankle ached. Her joints grew stiff with the cold, prompting her to find gloves and a muff. She kept the window wide.

  She was not aware of his arrival, until he sat crouched upon the window ledge, a black silhouette against the blacker sky. Muscles and joints stiff, she stretched out of the chair. “Giles?”

  The figure descended onto the floor and straightened up. Moonlight spilled over him, lighting his features, so that she could make out soft wavy brown hair, and a strong purposeful jaw.

  “Giles!” She clasped her hands to her mouth.

  Cautiously, he took a step closer. “Fortuna.” He cast a wary look to the sleeping figure upon the bed. “How are you? Will you flee with me?”

  Mute with surprise, for several long moments she simply gazed at him. The Giles she knew had principles set in stone, ones he would never waiver from, yet here he stood before her, his eyes, like slivers of jade, so full of anxiety and love. “Why are you here? You don’t believe in marriage, and you know I can’t live with you without that. They still need me, Giles.”

  “I love you,” he said. He inched closer, so she could see his face. He looked worn, yet determined. “I’ve been a fool. Marriage isn’t the problem, just my own lack of faith in myself. If I want a bond that’s equal
, then I’ll have to endeavour to make it thus between us, irrespective of what the law or society expects.” He dropped to his knees. “I’m truly sorry about what happened, Fortuna. I didn’t mean to be cruel, or so blind.”

  “You weren’t cruel. You acted as you thought best.” She took a step closer, seeing such honesty written into his face. Oh, part of her wanted to be angry, but really she’d craved him and the freedom he granted her, every minute they’d been apart.

  “I was cruel, Fortuna. And an idiot. You nearly died because of me. Can you ever forgive me for that?”

  Honesty etched his face, worn into the newly formed lines around his eyes. Ghostly shadows traced across the jade of his eyes. It had taken effort to come here. Heaven knew how he’d managed to elude Sir Hector’s men, or in fact, scaled to her window.

  “I wed Sir Hector come dawn.” She didn’t mean to be cruel with the statement, but they had to get everything straight. She needed to know that this time their paths were perfectly aligned.

  “Not if you marry me first.” He rested his cheek against her hand as he stared up at her with pleading eyes. “I hope I don’t need a legal oath to prove my affections, but it seems your godfather was rather more conservative in his views.”

  “Oh, Giles.” She let the strands of his hair fall through her fingers. “I want to, but you know I have to give Sir Hector the Star of Fortune, regardless of whether it is real or fake. Everyone seems to think it’s genuine now, though I don’t know how they can tell. Only father and the solicitors have seen it.”

  “Fortuna, you’re more precious than any stone, and besides that’s your decision. Whatever is yours will remain so. I won’t take it from you. I won’t claim you like that. It’s not my right.”

  Fortuna crushed his head to her waist. “Then yes, the answer is yes. It always has been, you know.”

  “Thank God.” Giles rose up and sought her lips. He kissed her long and slow, his taste flooding her senses, so that her desire for him unfurled like a flower peeping at the sun. “I want to kiss you all night long, but right now we must fly if we’re to be wed before dawn.”

  Fly indeed. He lowered her from the window in a cradle of rope, before scrambling down the outside of the building to free her. Hooded he carried her the short distance into St. James’s square where he set her down within his carriage.

  “The church, John, as fast as you can.”

  * * * * *

  “Where the devil are we?” Neddy asked.

  “Acton,” Darleston drawled as he brought the curricle to a halt before the parish church.

  Neddy squinted at him, and with a frown upon his face jumped down from the carriage. “Was it really necessary to come this far out?”

  More sedately, Darleston descended from the curricle. He secured the horses and made a point of fastidiously smoothing the line of his coat before setting off along the street towards the nearby houses. “She’s due to wed at St. James’s first thing, Neddy. I’m not sure there’s such a thing as too far out from London. As for why here, that would be because I think we’ll find the clergyman amenable to the task.” He flicked his silver-topped cane upwards and applied it to the vicarage door. “Jenkins! Jenkins!” It was some minutes before the top of the stable-like door swung open to reveal a petite bespectacled man. He blinked curiously at them, lifting a lantern to cast light upon their faces.

  His limpid eyes widened in alarm. “My Lord Darleston, how can I help?”

  Darleston crossed his hands over the top of his cane and gave the little man his most intimidating grin. “We’re in need of your services, Jenkins. In your official capacity, that is. If you could don the appropriate frock?”

  Behind his spectacles the man’s eyes narrowed. “Who is dieing? Is this more trouble caused by your wife? I’ve seen the broadsheets, sir. I don’t want my name becoming embroiled in your affairs.” The little man glanced around nervously at the gabled cottage, as if it might suddenly vanish.

  Darleston reassuringly patted his friend upon the back. “This is nothing to do with my wife, and nor has there been a duel. Quite the opposite. We’d simply like you to conduct a wedding at short notice.”

  He sensed the little man’s shoulders sag a little, some of his fears melting away. Darleston gave him another smile. He understood the man’s fears. He didn’t want to risk his livelihood, home, and his life maybe by being an accessory in an elopement. There were too many folk who wished men like them ill, who’d happily lie under oath about their doings. Accusing them of sodomy and other unnatural practices for the price of a pint of ale, and even if nothing could be proven, the slur to ones reputation could be irreparable.

  “How short notice, milord? Surely you’d rather be married out of Mayfair.” He peered questioningly at Neddy.

  “Oh, it’s not my wedding,” Neddy replied, causing Jenkins’s brows to fold back into deeper wrinkles. “The bride and groom will be coming shortly. We’re just the advance party.”

  “Now,” Jenkins spluttered. “Do you have a license?”

  “All in order.” Darleston waved the piece of vellum parchment beneath Jenkins’s nose, forcing the little man to blink myopically at it. “There’s also a little something for your trouble.” He swung a pouch of guineas from his fingertip.

  Still Jenkins hesitated. Fear and distrust swam in his eyes. “I know we’ve known each other a while, but I don’t like it, milord. It’s all rather irregular. Why the obscene rush?”

  Neddy started to explain, but Darleston cut him off. “The details are irrelevant. You don’t need to know them. All that’s important here is whether you’ll conduct the service or not. Have I your friendship, or have I not?”

  He could almost hear the cogs turning in Jenkins’s head. Friendship with a future earl was not something one passed up lightly. “Aye. I’ll do it,” he said eventually, wiping a hand across his perspiration-streaked brow. “But you may consider yourself in my debt, milord.”

  “I’ll certainly consider it,” Darleston drawled. His eyes narrowed. He folded the vellum and stowed it in his breast pocket. “Giles, you’d better make this work,” he muttered to himself. He didn’t like the bind of obligation being thrust upon him.

  “Of course, I’ll have to record the wedding taking place at a more appropriate hour. The diocese won’t approve of a wedding at this time of night.”

  “That’s fine. Now, perhaps you can open up the church and make things ready. We don’t want a squalid affair. It has to be pleasant.”

  Jenkins gave an abrupt nod. “Of course.”

  They followed the little man to the church door. Jenkins went inside to light candles and don his frock. Darleston sat on the stone pew in the porch and crossed his long legs.

  “That went considerably more smoothly than I anticipated,” Neddy remarked, as he strolled up and down, rubbing warmth into his hands while they waited for Giles and Fortuna to arrive.

  Darleston’s gaze flicked between his brother and the church door through which Jenkins had vanished. “He knows I can stir up all manner of trouble for him. Humouring me is the lesser evil in this case. He might receive a reprimand if anyone finds out, but that’s nothing to the possibility of a stint in Newgate. Not that I’d ever inflict such a fate upon one of my fellow punks.”

  Neddy snapped to attention. “Don’t call yourself that.” He swirled on one foot and faced Darleston with his fists clenched, and a sneer upon his normally easygoing face.

  “Neddy, you know what I am. I’ve never hidden it from you.” They’d shared more than most brothers—lovers, secrets. Great, fat whopping secrets. Ned had covered for him in the early days. He’d never criticized, which made his current growl of disapproval all the more shocking.

  “You’re not the same as most of them. I know you like women. Just because Lucy’s decided to blacken your name doesn’t mean you have to do it yourself.” Neddy walked out of the porch, leaving him alone.

  Darleston scratched his chin. Stop worrying, will you, he
silently shouted after his brother. I’m going to take myself out of the way. The social whirl in the capital would continue without him. Gossip would slowly turn to other matters. Rumour mongering was all she was capable of. She had no proof of anything else.

  Faking an easy gait, he followed the route his brother had taken from the church porch and found Neddy by the gate watching the road.

  “I still say one of us should have gone as back up,” Neddy remarked, as Darleston rested a hand upon the top of the gate. If one of Macleane’s lackeys has caught him, we’ll be lucky if we’re nursing him back to health tomorrow, not wishing congratulations on being wed.

  Darleston lit a cigar and put it to his lips. He watched the smoke curl from the end for several moments before offering it to his brother, who shook his head.

  “Giles wanted to go alone. Having made such an abysmal pig’s ear of things, he feels he needs to prove himself. And I did roll a convenient gin barrel in the direction of Macleane’s men. With any luck they’re too busy tippling to worry about a shadow at the window. Besides, Neddy, I don’t think he wanted an audience for his declaration of undying love. Laying yourself bare and risking being slapped aren’t things you want witnessed.”

  “I’ll guess you’d lost such inhibitions, being completely in your cups when you proposed to Lucy. As I recall I had to help you back up off your knees.” Ned drew a small hip flask from his inner pocket and took a deep draft. “Fortifying drink?” he offered.

  “No thanks. I never know what poison you have in there.”

  “Brandy,” Neddy gasped having taken a swig. He coughed to clear his throat. “Damn, that burns.”

  “Shall we walk? I can’t bear to stand here until they arrive.”

  They left the gate and followed a path worn in the sodden grass out amongst the gravestones. The snow had completely thawed over the last few days leaving behind the wet residue of the thawing frost. Here and there among the leaning, moss streaked stones, crocuses and daffodils were rearing their delicate heads. Some distance from the church, in a natural hollow shielded by a border of conifers, they paused by a raised sepulchre.