The Rake to Rescue Her

by Julia Justiss

  ‘Bravo!’ Alastair cried.

  ‘There’s more. I also persuaded Peters to give me the names of the household staff who were supposedly assisting him and the Duke in their nefarious enterprise. During a trip to show off my wares at Graveston Court, I found all those he named owed their positions to the previous housekeeper, a Mrs Heathson, who just happened to be recently reinstated into her former position by the new Duke.’

  ‘Tall, dark-haired, hatchet-faced?’ Alastair asked. When Will raised his eyebrows, he explained, ‘I encountered her when I called on Graveston.’

  ‘I then paid a visit to Mrs Forbes, the displaced housekeeper, who, by the way, was turned off without a character and no settlement of wages by the new Duke. She’d gone to stay with the retired governess, eking out a living doing hand work. She told me the old Duke had hired her after the previous housekeeper, fanatically loyal to the Duke’s first wife, nearly killed the second wife with overdoses of laudanum when the girl was being “sedated for a nervous condition”.’

  Will looked over at Diana. ‘Nervous condition? I never thought you nervous in your life.’

  ‘When you attempt to leave your husband, are dragged back from the posting inn by his minions and locked into your room, it can make you nervous,’ she said bitterly.

  Will’s face hardened. ‘I can well imagine. Mrs Forbes said all sorts of rumours flew around among the staff as the Duchess recovered, though none dared say or do anything for fear of losing their position. Some seemed sympathetic to the Duchess. Others, siding with Mrs Heathson, gave her trouble the whole time she remained at Graveston Court. During that time, Mrs Heathson continued to visit Cook and her other friends among the staff, who often spent their off-days with her. Apparently she never sought another position; Mrs Forbes suspected that the heir, Lord Blankford, was paying her. She was convinced Blankford was also paying some of the disaffected staff to spy on the Duchess and the household. In fact, when the Duke was discovered dead, Mrs Forbes had her suspicions that Cook might have been hired—or persuaded—to do to the Duke the laudanum trick Mrs Heathson had tried with his wife. But within hours of the old Duke’s death, Mrs Heathson returned to Graveston Court with a letter under Blankford’s seal, informing Mrs Forbes she had been discharged and must leave immediately, or the sheriff would eject her. With no other recourse, she had little choice but to depart.’

  ‘Would she be willing to testify to all of that in court?’ Alastair demanded.

  ‘Yes, particularly as she no longer has to fear retribution for her honesty. It seems she very recently received a, um, handsome bequest to keep her comfortably for the next few months—and the offer of a new position at a fine establishment in Sussex.’

  ‘Remind me to reimburse you the bequest and the resettlement money,’ Alastair said.

  Will gave an airy wave of the hand. ‘No need. Happy to be of service to a fellow Rogue.’

  ‘Are there any others who would testify for Diana?’

  ‘Mrs Forbes named three or four, who fear for their positions now that Mrs Heathson has returned—or just don’t approve of her actions against the Duchess. They could also assert that all those accusing the Duchess were hostile to her, if not actually in Blankford’s employ even before his father’s death.’

  ‘So the primary witness against Diana is now missing, and Mrs Forbes can testify to Mrs Heathson’s dealings in laudanum and previous attempt against Diana and her involvement with disaffected members of household,’ Alastair summarised.

  ‘That’s about it,’ Will concluded.

  ‘Excellent job, Will! Even if Blankford has the local magistrate in his pocket and can induce him to write out a warrant, the evidence would never stand in a summary trial, much less in the Lords.’

  ‘Our uncle would see to that.’

  ‘As it happens, I had a very surprising interview with the Earl,’ Alastair said. ‘After confessing to him we might soon be providing a spectacle with more scandalous twists and turns than a penny opera, I braced myself for a tongue-lashing—that never came. He seemed positively...friendly. It was quite unnerving.’

  Will laughed. ‘Max can hardly believe the change in his father.’

  ‘We have enough evidence now to convince Graveston it would not be wise to proceed,’ Alastair concluded, exultant. ‘If he’s irrational enough to go forward in any event, so be it. Good work, Will.’

  ‘Did you expect anything less?’ Will asked with a grin.

  ‘No—I had full confidence.’

  ‘We aim to please. I’ll leave the two of you to plot strategy. I’m famished, and I could use a wash. Diana, it’s good to have you back from the wilderness.’

  Her eyes widened in surprise before she said, ‘Thank you, Will. It’s not quite the same, but I think I feel some of what you must have felt, transported from the street into the bosom of the Rogues.’

  ‘We’re a shifty lot, but loyal. We’ll never let you down.’

  ‘So I should have believed years ago, and spared all of you—this.’

  Will gave her hand a pat. ‘Wouldn’t have missed it. We Rogues like nothing so much as a good fight. I’ll see you at dinner.’

  * * *

  As Will walked out, Diana, who’d said nothing during Will’s recitation beyond her one outburst, looked over to Alastair. ‘Do you think it’s enough?’

  ‘More than enough for any sane, rational man. Is Graveston sane and rational?’ He shrugged. ‘Only he knows that. I’ll press him hard, and we’ll see.’

  At her troubled look, he gave her a quick hug. Holding her at arm’s length, willing her to share the confidence he now felt, he said, ‘One way or the other, we can move forward. Graveston can force a scandal if he chooses, but your final vindication is not in doubt. Regardless, we’ll stand by you, me and all my family. James will stay with you, where he belongs, and we’ll fight for what is due both of you. You believe that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. Just...I have no confidence that Graveston will prove reasonable. I wish it could be settled without a fight—without the danger of scandal for you.’

  ‘You heard Will,’ Alastair replied with a smile. ‘We Ransleighs relish a scrap.’

  She shuddered. ‘I’ll pray for Graveston to be reasonable. When...will we go?’

  ‘I’ll go,’ he corrected. ‘Tomorrow. I’ve been itching to confront the man again since our previous encounter.’

  ‘I thought we were to confront him together this time.’

  ‘Only if the matter went to court. I think we have enough to break him and keep it from going that far...but if he sees you, it might revive his anger and harden his resolve.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said with a sigh.

  ‘You trust me, don’t you?’

  ‘You know I do.’

  ‘Besides, do you really want to go back to Graveston Court?’

  She shuddered. ‘No. Never.’

  ‘Then let me do this for you. Let me do it for us.’

  He didn’t think there’d been anything threatening in his tone, but Diana frowned. ‘Promise me you won’t beat him to death. Then we really would have to flee to Paris.’

  ‘I’ll try to restrain myself. Mama will take care of you while I’m gone.’

  ‘She’s been very kind. But I can take care of myself too, you know.’

  Alastair’s smile faded. ‘You’ve had only you to care for you, for too many years. But that’s over. You’ll never be without friends and allies again.’

  ‘Avenging Alastair.’

  ‘For you, yes. It’s time to finish this.’ And move on to so much more.

  Noting she still looked troubled, he added in a lighter tone, ‘I’m hoping for a quick resolution—and then a swift end to chastity.’

  As he’d hoped, the anxious lines in her face smooth
ed and she laughed. ‘Rogue. I hope to make that end worth your while.’

  In a flash, his imagination raced off like a thoroughbred at the starting gun. Battling back images of her smooth naked skin under his hands, he groaned. ‘Temptress! I’d better get myself ready for dinner, before I think too much about what I’d rather be getting ready for.’

  She smiled that naughty smile that made his breath hitch and his body harden. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be ready, too.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Next morning, Diana bid Alastair goodbye in the breakfast room—all too formally, under the eye of his mother, when she would have preferred to send him off after a luxurious episode in bed.

  Praying earnestly that Blankford would surprise her by being reasonable, and too agitated to concentrate on her painting, Diana set out for the garden. She’d restlessly circled the cutting garden, intent on walking towards the woods, when she encountered Will’s wife, Elodie.

  ‘Mrs Ransleigh has lovely gardens,’ Elodie said after greeting her.

  ‘I understand you are quite an enthusiastic gardener.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ve found such peace in a garden, during some of the most difficult times of my life.’ She smiled. ‘My Will, he bought Salmford for us because of the gardens. The fields were fallow, the tenants surly and in need of guidance. The seller was surely laughing behind his hand, thinking he’d made a bargain over a city man who didn’t know a plough from a potato. But the gardens of the manor were magnificent and now, the fields too have responded to love and care.’

  Responded to love and care. ‘Like a neglected child,’ she murmured, reminded at once of her own situation.

  ‘And men. Will tells me Alastair is protecting your son.’

  Diana felt a wave of gratitude. ‘My son, and me—though he had no good reason to do so.’

  ‘They act for honour, these Ransleighs. What is life, without your child? You are wise to defy even the greatest to keep him.’

  ‘You give me too much credit. I hardly cherished him for most of his years, but I’m trying to do better.’

  Elodie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You were estranged from your son?’

  ‘Factors...prevented me from becoming close to him.’ At the incomprehension on Elodie’s face, she said, ‘The situation was...complicated.’

  ‘I know what it is to battle against powerful men. One caused me to lose my son, too, when he was still very small. Every day I missed him, longed for him, cherished all the memories I had of him. And when I finally found him again, Philippe...didn’t even recognise me.’ Tears welled in her eyes.

  How would she feel if James were indifferent to her, rather than eager for his mother’s love? Something painful twisted in her chest. Maybe shutting herself off from her son was not the worst thing that could have happened.

  ‘It must have been terrible.’

  ‘Not so much, for him. He had a stepmother with a high position in Society, who lavished him with love. But he is my son, and I wanted to be part of his life. Will helped that happen.’

  ‘Does he remember you now?’

  ‘Sometimes, I think he does. But no matter. His stepmother is a good woman. She works with me.’ Elodie laughed. ‘She must, for if she did not, my rogue of a husband, knowing how much my son means to me, told her he would simply steal him away.’

  ‘Will would protect you at all costs.’

  ‘He would. You ache for all the lost years with your son, no? So did I. But it is coming back, the bond we once shared. It will for you, too.’

  Diana sighed. ‘If I don’t end up on the gallows, or so disgraced that the Court of Chancery takes my son away.’

  Elodie shook her head. ‘Will would never allow that, nor Alastair. If he must turn up more rogues and reprobates to testify, he would do so. In the meantime, we rebuild, eh? Love is important, the most important thing. For children. For women. Hold on to your Alastair.’

  Diana shook her head. ‘He’s not “my” Alastair.’

  ‘He would be, if you want him. Good men, they are not so easy to find.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that,’ Diana said with a wry smile. ‘But good men...deserve good women.’

  ‘Then be one.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can. I’m not sure I know how,’ she admitted, voicing her deepest anxiety.

  ‘When life has treated you roughly, it is hard to imagine it becoming better. Believe in it fiercely enough, though, and you can make it so. But I’ll not tease you any more. Now, shall we return? There are two boys who, I think, will have the nursery destroyed if we do not hurry back.’

  Nodding, Diana turned with her, and the talk moved to a discussion of the flowers they were passing. But as they walked back to the house, Diana wondered: could she put the shattered pieces of herself back together to make a woman good enough to deserve a man like Alastair?

  And what would the future hold if she couldn’t?

  * * *

  After a week closeted with his solicitor, doing some investigation of his own, Alastair presented himself once again at Graveston Court.

  As he was being escorted by the butler to the same imposing salon, he encountered the housekeeper. The expressionless stare he returned to her mock of a curtsy chased the knowing smirk from her lips and sent her retreating in the opposite direction.

  Forewarned by his previous visit, he came prepared for the Duke’s reception, pulling a small volume of Shakespeare’s sonnets from his pocket as soon as he took an armchair near the cold hearth. When the Duke’s arrival was announced by the butler a goodly time later, Alastair did not lift his eyes from the page, continuing instead to read for some minutes before at last looking up to greet his host.

  ‘I hope I’m not interrupting?’ the Duke said, an edge of irritation in his voice.

  ‘Not at all,’ he replied amiably. ‘While on campaign with Wellington, I found reading a wonderful diversion to occupy the tedium between battles.’

  ‘Is it to be a battle, then? You will choose to sacrifice your reputation by supporting That Woman in a losing cause? I am grieved to hear it.’

  Since neither the Duke’s expression nor his tone carried a hint of sadness, Alastair grinned. ‘So I see. I had hoped that, given the time to consider your course of action, you would reconsider.’

  The Duke made a scornful sound. ‘It sounds like you are still taken in by her. I never understood the spell she seems able to cast on men—even one as disciplined as my father!’

  Holding on to his temper, Alastair said evenly, ‘Since we’ll never agree on the character of the Dowager Duchess, shall we dispense with discussing her? I’m hoping you will see reason in not proceeding with what could only become an ugly scandal, that would have the great name of Mannington gossiped about by every groom, footman, and busybody from here to London.’

  ‘I’m not concerned about that,’ Graveston said loftily. ‘Only with justice.’

  ‘Indeed? Of course, you may rush ahead like a fool if you choose, but before you embarrass yourself, perhaps even place yourself and your reputation in danger, there are some points you should consider.’

  ‘Place myself in danger?’ The Duke laughed. ‘I hardly think so.’

  Not bothering to contest that boast, Alastair continued. ‘First, there’s the matter of claiming guardianship of your half-brother. If it came to the Court of Chancery, I would feel compelled to repeat for them the threats you made against the boy.’

  ‘Threats?’ he exclaimed. ‘What nonsense! I told you only that I wanted to have him raised as befits his birth!’

  ‘True. But you also said you wanted the boy to “suffer as you suffered” and “learn to serve your son”. Observations I imagine the gentlemen of the court would find most interesting.’

  The Duke’s eyes narrowed. ‘Even if you
made such accusations, it would be your word against mine.’

  Alastair fixed on him a steely-eyed stare. In a quiet voice, he said, ‘I’m sure you don’t mean to imply you would question my veracity before the court. Think carefully before you answer, lest you have a need to choose weapons and find a second.’

  Alastair almost hoped Graveston would be too irrational to step back. His fingers itched for a sword or pistol, to make this man with all the advantages of wealth, position and authority face someone more his equal than a widow whose only resource was the loyalty of her friends.

  To his satisfaction, the Duke looked away first. ‘Let’s not be so hasty.’

  ‘Then you’ll agree you have no reason to appeal to Chancery for custody of the boy. Now, on the question of making accusations of foul play against Dowager Duchess, I’ve made some enquiries on my own, and discovered a number of witnesses who can attest to your hatred for the Dowager, even of threats to harm her when you inherited.’

  Graveston stirred uneasily. ‘I’m sure I made no such threats.’

  ‘You did so to me. In any event, the Dowager did not stand to gain materially by her husband’s death. You, however, did. I understand you’ve accumulated some debts.’

  ‘How did you—?’ the Duke sputtered. Recovering himself, he said, ‘Nothing exorbitant.’

  ‘Then there’s the former housekeeper, who I understand was dismissed by your father for attempting to poison the Dowager. One would have thought, faced with the enmity of as powerful a man as a duke, she would have taken herself far, far away. Yet she stayed nearby, even coming and going to this house to visit members of the staff, all who were known to be loyal to you. If your father was poisoned, this woman, who had attempted it once before, who was discharged by your father and thus had a motive to wish him ill, had both access and expertise to do so. A woman who, I believe, you have reinstated in her former position as housekeeper. How much did you intend to pay her for her work, once all this was settled?’

  ‘Pay her for—?’ he echoed incredulously. ‘You can’t seriously contend that I had anything to do with my father’s death!’