For The Lust 0f A Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Olivia Bennet

  “It’s good to see you, Selina,” he replied.

  “Come, let me get the cook to fix you something.” She pulled his hand, heading to the dining room.

  “No,” he said quickly. “I have no appetite.”

  “You look like you have not eaten for a long time,” she replied.

  “No, Selina,” he insisted.

  “Fine,” she said, but did not seem pleased. “How have you been? I've been worried.”

  “Dreadful, to be honest.” They sat down on opposite ends of the couch.

  “Do they know what caused the fire?” The authorities had been investigating the fire, and they had been very curious why he had arrived so late upon hearing his office had burned down.

  “They refuse to tell me anything,” he said angrily. “The only information I have received is that this was most likely arson.”

  “Arson?” Selina gasped, one hand covering her mouth. “Who could do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed heavily. He had met with the insurance company yesterday, and they behaved most peculiarly. Refusing to tell him anything, and asking him to leave just after he arrived.

  They sat in silence for a long time, until Selina finally spoke. “Did you hear about Lady Caroline?” She asked tentatively.

  “I did,” he replied curtly. Once he had arrived, he had stood in the ruins that used to be his office, lamenting the destruction that surrounded him. When he returned to his lodgings, he had overheard two elderly ladies, chatting animatedly about the latest engagement, which they had said would surely be the wedding of the decade.

  When Lady Caroline would marry Lord Estaria.

  He had never before experienced such an emotion. He could only describe it as what he imagined being keelhauled must be like.

  “You must go to her,” she said. “Explain what happened that night.”

  “Selina!” He warned. “Please don’t!”

  “Jas, you cannot let her go, you have to fight for her!” She had moved closer to him, looking fiercely at him.

  “She has made up her mind,” he retorted. “It’s all over.”

  “No, I refuse to believe that!”

  “Well, that’s not your decision,” he said with finality. “I should not have come here, I’m sorry.” He stood up to leave.

  “Don’t leave,” she pleaded, but he shook his head and bade her goodbye.

  “If you love her, truly love her, you must fight for her,” she said when he was about to leave the room. He paused for a brief moment but did not say anything.

  He walked away from the Featherstone manor, not feeling any better, as he had been hoping. If anything, Selina’s relentless optimism irritated him, more than inspired him. Contemplating what he should do next, he was startled as someone spoke his name in a hushed voice. He turned around, trying to see who was talking when someone yanked his arm into a dark alley.

  “Mr. Langley,” Mr. McIntire said in his gruff voice.

  “Mr. McIntire?” Jasper stared at the Constable, surprised. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “You should know that the fire at your office was arson,” Mr. McIntire said.

  “I already know that,” he spat angrily.

  “You should also know that the authorities received a tip of who might be the arsonist.” Mr. McIntire seemed unperturbed by his outburst.

  “A tip? What are you talking about? How do you know this?” He looked suspiciously at Mr. McIntire.

  “Never you mind how I know this,” Mr. McIntire replied. “That should not be your concern.”

  “Then what?”

  “Who they consider started the fire,” Mr. McIntire said coolly.

  “Who do they suspect?” He tried to calm his anger but was unsuccessful.

  “They suspect you are the culprit.”

  Chapter 40

  Caroline sat up in her four-poster bed, drenched in a cold sweat, her heart clenching painfully inside her rib cage. It was the middle of the night, and her eyes were blinded with tears, and Jasper’s name was on her lips. For the past few weeks, her dreams seemed to mock her pain.

  Every night, she dreamt of them together. She dreamt of the two of them in the most mundane situations. Walking together in Hyde Park, dinners at Brighney Manor, and the worst ones, casual evenings by the fireplace, each reading a book.

  I cannot believe this is it. My wedding day. I always envisioned that this would be a joyous day, filled with love and excitement. Not this impending doom of the beginning of a loveless marriage.

  She left her bed and approached the window, pulling the heavy drapes to the side. The window sill was wide enough for her to sit in the embrasure. She rested her forehead on the cold window, staring out into the darkness.

  The bright sunlight shone on her face, gently waking her up. She opened her eyes, unaware that she had fallen asleep. There was a knock on the door, but she did not reply. Another knock sounded.

  “My Lady?” Madeleine spoke in a tentative voice. “Lady Caroline?”

  “Enter.” She did not leave her position, nor did she look at Madeleine as she entered the room.

  “It is time, My Lady,” Madeleine said softly. She sighed heavily before walking toward the mirror. Madeleine helped her into her wedding gown. It was a gorgeous gown of fine white muslin, covered by a thin and soft silk shawl, embroidered with white satin flowers and primrose lace trimmings. Lord Estaria had demanded that the finest dressmaker in the city would make her gown.

  “You look beautiful, My Lady.” Madeleine helped her sit down and began combing gently through her hair.

  “Thank you, Madeleine,” she replied stiffly. All she wanted to do was to rip this gown into shreds. Being in it made her feel caged, trapped.

  “Her Grace wants you to join her and Lord Brighney in the drawing room when you are ready.” Madeleine finished pinning her hair, and she gazed at her reflection. The person in the mirror was a stranger to her—this sad and miserable figure was a mere echo of who she indeed was—or used to be.

  “I am ready.” She stood up, gracefully, and left her room.

  There is no use in delaying the inevitable.

  * * *

  Jasper walked down the quiet and deserted street. He had left his house while it was still dark, unable to stay there for much longer. Since Mr. McIntire had informed him that he was a suspect in the arson of his office, he had been determined to find out who was truly responsible for the fire.

  No one seemed to be able to corroborate that he had not even been in London at the time of the fire. The rider of the carriage he had taken to Bath had said he did not remember him at all, and the insurance company had indicated that they might prosecute him for fraud. Something very strange was going on. But that had not been the reason he did not sleep that night.

  Caroline will be married today. All hope I ever had will be crushed as soon as the church bell rings in only a few hours.

  He stopped in front of the house he had been looking for. It was too early to knock, but he did not care. The echo from his harsh knocks reverberated down the street. He had found out the address of the carriage driver, with the help of Mr. Holmes. He knocked again when no one answered the door. After a short while, the door was flung open. An irritable man stood in his nightshirt, glaring at him.

  “What in the hell is the meaning of this? Knocking on me bloody door at this hour?” The man peered against the brightness of the early sun. But as soon as he looked at Jasper, a wide look of panic filled his face, and he tried to close the door.

  “Stop!” Jasper stepped forward and prevented the man from closing the door. “You are hard to track down, Mr. Davies.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Mr. Davies said, shaking his head.

  “Why did you lie to the authorities?”

  “What… I never—” Mr. Davies spluttered, unconvincingly.

  “Then why did you say you did not recall that I had been in your carriage on the way to Bath?” He
took another step, almost entering Mr. Davies’s home. “You damn well know who I am!”

  “What was my choice, Mr. Langley?” Mr. Davies looked furtively away from him.

  “Explain yourself,” he commanded.

  “This large ruffian comes to my home, threatening me to forget I ever saw you, he did.” Mr. Davies scowled at him. “Threatening me wife, and what not!”

  “Who was this?”

  “Big fellow, with broad shoulders, and a scar down his face,” Mr. Davies said. “Dressed like one of them fancy servants.”

  The horrible realization hit Jasper with full force. That description was very familiar, and it would explain many things.

  I have to save Caroline, she in danger.

  “Thank you,” he said suddenly, walking away from the stunned Mr. Davies.

  “Oi, where are you going?” Mr. Davies called, before cursing and closing the door. Jasper rushed ahead, he would need to hurry in order to stop him.

  * * *

  “How are you feeling, poppet?” Lord Brighney turned to Caroline, seeming concerned. “Nervous for the big day?” They were in the carriage on the way to St. George’s, where the ceremony would be held. She was aware of the whispers around the ton that Lord Estaria had paid a hefty sum of money to secure this date, with such short notice. But this did not matter to her in the slightest. The place where her life as she knew it would end was not of concern to her.

  “Yes, a little nervous,” she replied. There was no use in telling her father the truth, it would not accomplish anything.

  Once she stepped down from the carriage, a strong flower scent hit her senses. The entrance to the church was strewn lavishly with flowers, a grandiose spectacle. It made her feel as if this was her funeral rather than a wedding.

  The church was filled with people, to her surprise. Her heart ached as she stood at the end of the aisle. She could see Lord Estaria standing near the altar, dressed in his finest. When she began walking, all heads turned to gaze at her.

  When she had nearly reached Lord Estaria, she caught Lady Anna’s gaze. Instead of a joyous smile, her eyes were filled with tears, and concern was etched on her face. Hurriedly, she looked away from Lady Anna, lest she started crying as well.

  The priest gave her a warm smile as she took her place next to Lord Estaria. She felt dizzy with torment, and she clung to her bouquet to hide the tremor in her hands. Flashing images of Jasper popped into her head, of his hand at her waist, his lips on her neck. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation,” the priest spoke in a booming voice. “To join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”

  She could not hear the rest of the priest’s words. A loud ringing drowned out all other sounds, and all she could hear were Jasper’s words from the first letter he sent her.

  I pray that you are well. Your letter was a beacon of bright light, which only your smile can outshine.

  “… Signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt—” The priest continued.

  You have rendered me powerless. In this unjust world, there is light, in the shape of you. I fear for the day once my service comes to an end. I am powerless, a slave to my heart.

  She had read his letter so many times that she knew it by heart. An overwhelming sadness now pressed hard against her chest, threatening to cause her to fall over.

  The day, when I will not return to Brighney Manor, will be bleak, and I will pity my poor soul. I go on, uncertain of my fate, but I will nurse the slightest hope, to see your face, your hand, your smile—once more.

  This was the bleak day of which Jasper wrote. She could not help think that from now on, her life would remain bleak.

  “Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace,” the priest said, and she raised her head slightly. This was her final chance.

  There was complete silence in the church, and her entire body was rigid from the strain of listening for any sound.

  “I require and charge you both, that if either of you knows any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful.” The priest looked at Lord Estaria and then at her. Her mouth opened, and the objection was at the tip of her tongue.

  But it was no use. The priest turned to Lord Estaria again and spoke in his resounding voice, “Will you have this woman to thy wedded wife? Wilt thou love her, honor her, and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

  “I will,” Lord Estaria replied soundly. The priest now turned to her again and repeated the words.

  “... so long as ye both shall live?” She was afraid that her voice had left her body in protest as she opened her mouth, and not a single sound escaped her lips. She could feel Lord Estaria turning to face her.

  All of a sudden, a thundering crash sounded. The doors had been pushed open harshly, and someone ran down the aisle. A ripple of gasps and outrage traveled down the church rows, as Jasper stopped and bellowed.

  “Stop this wedding! Lady Caroline, you cannot marry him. I love you with every fiber of my being, and my miserable soul will fight for you until my dying day!”

  Chapter 41

  The church was filled with utter chaos. Shocked gasps had been heard all over after Jasper had spoken, and there was a buzzing chatter, growing louder and louder. Lord Estaria scowled at him, looking as if he had swallowed a lemon. But Jasper only had eyes for Caroline. She hovered in her spot, and suddenly he lunged forward. He had noticed that her eyes were unfocused, and he suspected she was about to collapse.

  “Lady Caroline!” He bellowed, but he was stopped from approaching her any closer. Two strong hands held him back, but they let go of him as Caroline fell to the floor, like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

  The irate-looking Lord Brighney stepped from the church rows and shouted orders. Someone had pushed Jasper down in the confusion, so he could not see what was happening. A knee pressed painfully hard into his back.

  “Get off me,” he growled, twisting away from his captor. He looked up and saw Caroline being carried away from the altar.

  “You!” A voice shouted nearby. He stood up, trying to regain his senses. Someone screamed as Lord Estaria raised his fist over him, ready to strike. Jasper stood his ground, prepared to fight back.

  Give me a reason you bastard—I will not hesitate to fight you!

  Lord Estaria lowered his hand as the Duke of Aston stood up and approached his son. “What is the meaning of this, Mr. Langley?”

  “We would all like to know that.” Lord Brighney spoke through clenched teeth, seething with anger, appearing suddenly behind Lord Estaria. “But we will not discuss this here. You have already made a spectacle of my daughter’s wedding; you will not be permitted to spread the reason for your despicable performance here.”

  Jasper was ushered out through the side entrance, where he was forced into a carriage that stood in front of the church. No one had told him where he would be taken, but that did not matter. All he could think about was Caroline. The carriage did not move for a long time. He could hear indistinct voices outside. Finally, the carriage began moving.

  Jasper had arrived at Brighney Manor. The butler escorted him into a large drawing room, which he had never seen before. When the door opened all eyes were on him. Lord Estaria leaped up from his chair as he entered. “Why is that man here?” Lord Estaria demanded.

  “We deserve an explanation,” Lord Brighney replied.

  “Explanation?” Lord Estaria was livid. “This man should be thrown into gaol.”

  “Where is Lady Caroline?” He ignored Lord Estaria complet
ely and focused his attention on Lord Brighney.

  “The physician is with her.” Lord Brighney was regarding him curiously.

  “This is outrageous,” Lord Estaria spat. “This man has ruined my wedding day and frightened Lady Caroline dreadfully. I want him removed from my presence—”

  “Be quiet,” the Duke of Aston commanded. Jasper turned around swiftly. He had not noticed His Grace was in the room.

  “Your Grace, surely you can symp—” Lord Estaria tried, but his father cut him off again.