A Rogue to Remember

by Bowlin, Chasity

  The only reason he’d hung on as long as he did with Alice Ashton had been the vain hope that her father would reconsider and welcome his daughter back into the fold. Sadly, that had never happened. But it no longer mattered. He could use the child to get what should have rightfully been his all along. It wasn’t an unreasonable thing to demand what should have been Alice’s marriage portion had her father not disowned her… not in exchange for the return of the child. And as much as it stroked his sense of self-importance to know that the pretty blonde was aware of him on such a primal level, as if her very survival depended on it, it was a nuisance as well. So long as she was watchful, he’d have no opportunities to snatch the brat. Not unless he made to snatch them both. It was a complication, and one that he hadn’t anticipated, but eyeing her figure beneath the velvet pelisse she wore, he realized that it was an idea that had its own merits as well.

  *

  They’d reached the Tower without incident and had entered the menagerie with a throng of others. Marina stood only two feet in front of them, her little face pressed against the bars that provided a safe barrier to the pit below where tigers paced in their enclosure. He could feel tension radiating from his faux betrothed.

  Devil was not unaware of Wilhelmina’s unease. He’d caught her glancing over her shoulder no less than a dozen times. It wasn’t that he didn’t think her fears were well founded, or even that he didn’t feel they were being watched. The truth was that he knew they were. He’d anticipated it. There were half a dozen men surrounding them that he had hired to protect them all, and no one was even aware of them. So if Alaric West, or whatever his bloody name was, attempted anything, short work would be made of him.

  “You must relax, Wilhelmina. If you do not give the appearance of enjoying yourself, then Marina will not enjoy herself,” he admonished softly.

  She looked up at him, her concern evident in her troubled gaze. “I think we’ve taken an unnecessary risk. I’ve no wish to make her feel like a prisoner in her home, but I cannot feel that this is safe. What if that man is here? What if he returns?”

  Devil offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I expect that he will return. I have little doubt that he is watching us even as we speak. Do you truly think I would have brought either of you here without taking every safeguard and precaution?”

  “I hadn’t considered it one way or the other. What sort of safeguards and precautions?” she demanded.

  “I have hired guards. Not just the runners who followed behind us, but there have been others on the street, following much more discreetly, since we left the townhouse. These are men who have made it their life’s work to function in the shadows and go unnoticed. In the past, they did so for king and country. Now, they do so for hire.”

  “Mercenaries?”

  “Soldiers who no longer have a war to fight,” he corrected. “We are as safe as I can make us without remaining locked inside the house.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are we bait then? A piece of meat laid in a trap to lure him in?”

  “No. That is not at all what I mean… I am bribing my niece, Wilhelmina. There is no other word for it. I am offering up these outings and toys and treats as a way of getting her to spend enough time with me to no longer see me as a threat,” he admitted. “You wanted me to get close to her, to be her family. And I am trying. I need her not only to feel safe with me, but to want to be there as well. My greatest fear, Wilhelmina, is that she will be so miserable in my home that she will try to run away to what is familiar. I don’t need to tell you what dangers exist in this city for a child so small and so incapable of protecting herself.”

  It was a fear he’d never spoken aloud, but it was one that made him wake up in a cold sweat nearly every night. He could easily recall the wails and screams the poor child had emitted as he’d carried her away from the rapidly cooling body of her mother. The memory of those moments, of watching the light leave Alice’s eyes and knowing the very second that her soul was gone and only the shell remained, haunted him. But the child didn’t know. She couldn’t know. And she likely hated him because he’d pulled her away. Why wouldn’t she run?

  “I think you underestimate her intelligence, my lord. Marina is a child, but she’s one who has grown up in an environment that promotes a deep understanding of self-preservation. And while the concepts of life and death may not be something she can put into words, I’ve little doubt that she understood that her mother was no more. What else would she attempt to return to? She knows she cannot fend for herself in this world because, while it might pain you to hear it, she likely has been for some time. As ill as your poor sister was, she could not have been providing much for the child. And if this Mr. West is the bounder we both recognize him to be, then we know he was not providing for them either.”

  The words were offered gently—factually—and lacked any hint of reproach. He was thankful for that.

  “I should have been there to take care of them. And I was not through no one’s fault but my own. I can lay it on my father’s head all I wish to, but the simple fact is that, had I not been so consumed with pursuing my own pleasures with no thought of the consequences, I could have protected her had I not been exiled.”

  “And perhaps if your father had been a kinder and more loving man, you might have had something in your life beyond hedonistic pursuits. We all have our ways of dealing with pain, my lord.”

  “Douglas,” he corrected automatically. “Or Devil, if you prefer.”

  She looked at him for a moment, her gaze thoughtful and surprisingly gentle. “I do not prefer. Too many people in your life have attached such an unfortunate moniker to you. You have been labeled wicked so often you believe that you can be nothing else… Douglas.”

  Devil said nothing, just turned his face away and watched his niece as she stared in rapt wonder at the beasts below. Moving closer to her, he knelt down. “When I was in India,” he whispered, “there was a man, a prince, who became a friend of mine. He had one of them as a pet. It had been orphaned as a cub and had been raised on milk from other animals and then hand fed meats. It was gentle as a lamb. I got to pet it once.”

  “Soft?”

  It took him a moment to realize the child had even spoken, her voice was so timid and low. But when it registered, he smiled. “It’s actually very rough, but only on top. If you dig a little deeper, there’s fur underneath that top layer of coarse hair that is as soft as down.”

  Devil watched her and saw her eyes widen, saw the smile that curved her little doll-like lips. She was the image of Alice, and he vowed in that moment she would never know the kind of pain and suffering that his sister had, no matter the cost.

  *

  Willa watched him and felt her heart stutter beneath her breast. He robbed her of breath in that moment and she knew, without even having to utter the words aloud, that she was doomed. In a matter of days, she’d become completely infatuated with him. Not his wickedness. Not his handsomeness. No. She’d fallen completely and utterly under his spell as she bore witness to the hidden gentleness in him that he showed so rarely but that seemed to influence every decision he made. It was a terrible balancing act, providing opportunities for Marina to discover happiness in his household and also keep her safe.

  As much to provide a reprieve for her overstimulated emotional state as to monitor their safety, Willa glanced around them looking for the guards he’d indicated would be nearby. If they were, then they were clearly the experts at clandestine engagement he’d labeled them for she couldn’t spot them at all. But even as she thought it and turned back to Lord Deveril and his ward, she caught sight of a familiar face.

  “He’s here,” she said, but there was a loud shriek from a woman nearby as one of the tigers in the enclosure leapt at another one. It masked the sound of her voice. Fearful of losing sight of him, she kept her gaze locked on Alaric West. But he simply tipped his hat to her and once more receded into the crowd.

  “What did you say?”
Lord Deveril asked, rising to stand at his full height beside her.

  “I saw West,” she replied. “He was over there, and he had two other men with him. But he saw me. I looked right at him, and he tipped his hat and then vanished into the crowd. I think he’s simply toying with us.”

  Lord Deveril looked over the top of her head into the crowd and waved his hand in the direction she’d indicated.

  Looking back, Willa saw six men in respectable but hardly noteworthy clothing suddenly separate from the crowd and move in the direction he’d indicated. She’d looked right past those men, unassuming and appearing to be simply part of the throng. She’d had no idea they had been so close to them all along. “My heavens. I had not realized they were all within shouting distance.”

  “I was taking no chances,” he replied. “I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe.”

  “To keep Marina safe,” she corrected.

  “To keep you both safe,” he amended. “It is not just her to whom he poses a threat, Wilhelmina. And I would not have you in danger either.”

  Uncomfortable with his steady regard, Willa looked away hurriedly. “We should move on from here on the chance he might return.”

  “We should,” he agreed and added in a slightly louder tone that Marina was certain to overhear, “There are elephants to be seen after all.”

  The little girl left the bars where she’d been peering down into the tiger cage and ran up to them, eagerly taking his hand.

  What unfolded in that moment nearly broke her. Willa saw his face—the hope and the joy that filled him when the child reached out to him. But she also saw his loneliness. He’d worn it like a familiar cloak, and it was only obvious in its absence. For all his womanizing and drinking, for all his gambling and fighting, Douglas Ashton—Lord Deveril—was a very lonely man, one filled with pain and grief. It moved her in ways she knew would be disastrous.

  For her own safety, for her own peace of mind, and for her ability to maintain any semblance of propriety in her thoughts, she needed to not see that in him. Being attracted to him was difficult enough. Being infatuated with him was terrible for her. But genuinely liking him was nothing short of ruinous. But feeling that common bond of loneliness placed her on the precipice of disaster. It was that which could transform reckless infatuation into love, and she could not afford to love him. The cost was too great.

  “Come, Wilhelmina,” he urged softly and held out his other arm to her. “Let us enjoy the remainder of our day here and not think of West and his plots and schemes.”

  With trepidation and a heart that beat far too quickly, Willa placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her through the crowd.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Their afternoon at the menagerie had been a success. He wouldn’t say that Marina was completely trusting of him just yet. The child was still speaking very little, and when she did, it wasn’t more than a whisper. But she no longer cowed or shrieked if he was near. Somehow, Wilhelmina’s presence had created enough of a buffer that she could at least begin to open up to him. He longed for the day when Marina lost that cautiousness and her slightly haunted gaze.

  A carriage had been hired to take them home as the weather had turned and the threat of imminent rain had materialized. Marina was asleep on the carriage seat, exhausted from her adventure. She rested serenely against Wilhelmina’s side. They looked like a Renaissance painting. In the dimly-lit interior of their hired conveyance, Wilhelmina’s blonde locks could pass for the same red-gold hue that her much beloved Titian had favored.

  “It’s impolite to stare, Lord Deveril” she murmured softly.

  Despite the presence of the sleeping child, there was something incredibly intimate about sitting in that small, enclosed space with her. With the sound of the rain outside dampening the sounds of the city, it felt as if they were the only people in the world. He found he rather liked the feeling and that, in and of itself, was reason enough to panic. He’d been attracted to women before, had been drawn to and infatuated with them. And yet with Miss Wilhelmina Marks, it was more than that. He felt an ease and a comfort with her, a sense of peacefulness in her presence that made him all too aware of what had previously been missing from his life. In short, she made him want things that he’d never imagined he would or even could.

  What if they were truly betrothed? What if the two of them were to build a life together and bring up Marina in a real family? What if they were to have children of their own?

  “I thought we agreed you’d call me Douglas? And you’ll have to forgive my impudence,” he replied. “I have seldom seen something so worthy of being stared at.”

  The light was too poor for him to see her rolling her eyes at such flattery, but he was aware of it nonetheless. And while it might have sounded like empty flattery, it was one of the most truthful statements he had ever made. Somehow, every time he looked at her, she seemed to grow more lovely. “It is quite true, Wilhelmina.” She looked away, and while he couldn’t see her blush, he was sure it was present.

  “I despise that name, if you must know,” she said quietly.

  He had suspected. “Why?”

  “My father’s name is William. My mother couldn’t give me his surname, so she did her best to give me his given one. It’s a reminder of things I’d rather not be reminded of,” she admitted.

  The answer was given in an almost flippant tone, as if it were something that she had no emotion about whatsoever. Yet, he knew that was not the case. He could sense the tension in her, could feel the anger and, yes, the hurt. Her father’s rejection of her, for it could not be considered anything less, still pained her. But one didn’t have to be a bastard to feel that.

  “William. And his last name?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked.

  “Oddly enough, yes.”

  “Why?” she demanded, mirroring his earlier query to her.

  “Because I find it distasteful to know that I might have sat across from him at a card table or at a dinner. I might have laughed and joked with him at a club. I’d like to be certain I do not do so again,” he offered.

  “William Satterly, he’s the youngest son of Lord Heatherton. And yes, you’ve likely done all those things.”

  He had, in fact. He neither liked nor disliked Satterly. The man was a bit of a rake but nothing untoward. His reputation was innocuous enough that he was permitted by even the most fastidious of hostesses.

  “Have you ever actually met the man?”

  Wilhelmina nodded slightly, a faint movement that he sensed more than saw in the dim interior of the carriage. “A time or two. Most often, he could not be bothered.”

  “Perhaps that is a blessing,” he suggested. “If the man is so lacking in character and morals, then being subjected to him more frequently might have done you greater harm.”

  “Or he could simply have been a better man. Would that have been so difficult?” Wilhelmina asked.

  “My father sent me to India hoping I would die there. He meant to get himself a young wife and have another son to inherit because he despised me so,” Devil said softly. “And he discarded Alice just as quickly, because when she fell from grace, she was no longer an asset to him. That’s what we were. Property. Assets. Things to be bought, bartered, sold, and used to further whatever agenda he possessed at any given time. So to answer your question, some men are better, some men can be better… and some are simply broken inside, like sharp bits of glass.”

  She was silent for the longest time. Marina stirred in her sleep, mumbled softly, and then settled again. “I’m sorry that your father failed you as well, Lord Deveril.”

  “Douglas,” he corrected again. “And you still haven’t told me what you’d prefer to be called.”

  “I would have you call me Miss Marks, but as you are insistent upon taking liberties and maintaining this farce of an intimate acquaintance, you may call me Willa. It is what my friends call me.”

  Devil smiled. “And are we f
riends, Willa?”

  Her head tilted to one side, not coquettishly though it might have given that appearance had he not had a better understanding of her character. She answered thoughtfully, “We are not enemies. But we must, specifically in private, recall that our stations in life and the paths we must take are quite divergent.”

  “Our stations? Are you not the daughter of a gentleman?” he challenged. Did she really think the matter of her birth was such an obstacle?

  “I am the illegitimate daughter of a gentleman and your governess in secret,” she replied sharply. “A bastard.”

  Marina mumbled in her sleep once more. A single word escaped her. “Bastard.”

  Devil couldn’t help but grin. “Well, at least we know she can speak.”

  “It isn’t funny. And it’s not a word she should know much less utter. But my status is not something either of us can afford to forget. I’ll be no man’s mistress, and if you were prepared to be someone’s husband, it would not be to a woman of my standing. That, my lord, is what we should endeavor to remember. Whatever you think, whatever you may desire of me, it is not something I can afford to give you.”

  “I have not asked you to.” Yet. They both knew he would. It was a feeling between them, inevitable and irrefutable. Every moment in her presence cemented for him that there was something special about her, something different. She was not swayed by his looks, by his fortune, by his reputation. In fact, all of those things seemed to prompt contempt in her. Yet when he revealed anything of his pain, of his guilt and misery, she was sympathetic and compassionate. In short, she was unlike any woman he’d ever known.

  “No, you have not. And yet I’m aware of your interest,” she said pragmatically.

  He didn’t insult her intelligence by denying it. She spoke nothing less than the truth, so he simply let it be.

  After a long pause where she looked out the window into the rain, she added, “The things that passed between us yesterday, in your chamber and in your study… they cannot be repeated. And moments such as this one, we should seek to avoid them. While Marina’s presence does provide us with a reason to be together, we both know that it alone is not adequate to prevent temptation. Any future outings should include Lady Carringden, much to my dismay, not only for the sake of propriety, but because—”